With Love
by Lady Devonna
Summary: Complete! The harrowing adventures of coming to terms with first love in Shin Makoku, complicated slightly by assassins, nefarious plots, family, bear bees, and adolescence. Wolfram/Yuuri.
1. Many Happy Returns

It had been a long, arduous day of signing things for the Maou. Yuuri sometimes suspected a vast conspiracy against the crown, keeping him deeply involved with endless paperwork regarding the tiniest things. As he couldn't think of anyone who'd conspire so wickedly, he supposed the theory didn't hold water. But the cramp in his hand demanded some sort of justice.

He hadn't been back to earth in a while. Maybe he'd sneak back tonight. Gunther could hold the fort for a while, while he had some of his mother's curry and played some real baseball. He was still on summer vacation at home. Thank heaven for the passage of time in Shin Makoku.

Yuuri yawned as he wended his way down from the office to the dining room. They were all there, waiting for him, and he felt a slight twinge of guilt for taking his time. He wished they weren't all such sticklers for etiquette. It would be so much simpler if they'd just start a meal without him. He took his seat with a self-conscious cough. Wolfram, Conrad, Gwendal, Gunter, Greta—and, interestingly, Celi. He hadn't known she was back.

"How was your day, Your Majesty?" Gunter beamed over his fork, tossing his hair elegantly in the candlelight. Yuuri couldn't help but wonder how a person could really manage to be posed every minute of every day. …Probably the same thing that got a person hired off the street to model.

"Um, alright, I suppose. A lot of paperwork." Yuuri shrugged and reached for his fork when he felt a very familiar palm on the back of his head.

"Shouldn't you be greeting your own fiancé when you first join a party!" Wolfram sent Yuuri a poisonous glare. Quite literally. Yuuri couldn't help finding something a little bit toxic in that shade of green. Dangerous, though even he didn't deny Wolfram's beauty. From a purely aesthetic standpoint, of course.

"Um, yes, probably. Ouch." He sent a baleful glance Wolfram's way and stabbed at a carrot floating in whatever Doria had made for today. As usual, it was delicious. Enough to smooth his slightly ruffled feathers, compounded with increased tolerance for Wolfram in general. "So… Celi-sama, have you made some progress in the search for free love?" A change of subject would be nice.

"Hmm, I thought I had, but my prospective suitor objected to being known as Mr. Bunbun. Men can be so close minded. But I knew it was time to wend my way home for my little Wolfram's birthday!"

"Mother!" Wolfram stood bolt upright, slamming both palms into the table for a theatrical smack, his pale cheeks slowly turning the approximate shade of a ripening cherry. Gwendal coughed in a circumspect manner, and Wolfram fumed for a moment before sinking back into his chair to Celi's singularly infuriating smile.

Yuuri couldn't really begin to fathom that one. Of all the things to tick Wolfram off… And why had no one told him? At the very least, he'd have expected his doting fiancé to demand attention or Josak to tease him. He hesitated to ask a moment too long, and Greta beat him to it.

She stood up on her chair, beaming. "Wolfram! How old are you going to be? Are you older than Yuuri? Can I make the cake? Can it have strawberries? Are you allergic to strawberries or is that Gwendal?"

He never could resist her. Greta beat out even Yuuri's power to shatter Wolfram's defenses. "Um… Eighty-three. But there's no need to pay it any attention." He sent his sulkiest pout at his mother and a glare at the rest of the table, a glare of such potency it rendered Yuuri entirely cowed and left him no choice but to chat with Conrad about baseball stats, which he'd begun carrying over from earth to promote national interest.

Yuuri left the table after the meal deep in consideration. Whatever Wolfram's strange antipathy to his own birthday, it seemed rude not to get him anything. But that left the question of what to buy for someone whose mother practically exuded jewels from her pores. True, Yuuri was the ruler of an entire nation, but he'd never dared tap into the treasury for personal gratification when Covenant Castle was already the very lap of luxury. He wouldn't know what to get, or, really, what Wolfram would want.

He supposed he could ask Conrad, though it would surely earn him a teasing smile at the very least. He was just being polite! Maybe the time apart and the belief he'd never see Wolfram again had softened Yuuri a little toward his fiancé. But he was simply being considerate of a friend, and everyone should be able to see that.

Something cute from earth might just do it, a stuffed animal or a game… Or maybe a camera. Wolfram was such an awful artist. Maybe he should make film his medium. Yuuri snickered at that as he changed into his nightshirt and lifted a sleepy Greta into bed.

No Wolfram. He hadn't been sleeping with Yuuri since the Maou's return. It was nice to know that any knee buried in his solar plexus was Greta, but… No. No buts. It was very pleasant to have his bed to himself. Yuuri fell into bed and closed his eyes, determined to sink into a dreamless, fiancé-free sleep.

Conrad's pitch thwacked solidly into Yuuri's glove. "You're getting better!"

"How gracious, Your Majesty." Conrad then had to duck a bit as Yuuri's playfully baleful return pitch thudded into his glove with a particularly solid force.

"Don't call me that." Yuuri stuck out his tongue, catching Conrad's toss with ease. He glanced over his shoulder before throwing again. "Conrad… what was that scene at dinner about last night?"

"Hmm? Oh." Conrad nodded sagely. "That's right, celebrating birthdays is a custom on earth." He considered for a moment. "I've told you how, on the sixteenth birthday, a Mazoku chooses the path his or her life will take from there on in." Yuuri nodded. "Preceding that age, birthday celebrations are common, but after the sixteenth year, childhood is over. It is considered petulant and embarrassing to call attention to any birthday after that. However, Wolfram is perpetually plagued by our mother's attempts to keep him her baby forever. When he turned seventeen, she threw him an elaborate celebration. You can imagine how well he took to that humiliation. He's been very sensitive ever since. And mother doesn't help when she brings it up every year. I think it amuses her."

"Oh." That sounded exactly like Wolfram, to be smarting from an expression of his mother's affection decades later. Yuuri supposed that made him a bit of a hypocrite. Recalling some of his own mother's attentions made him squirm enough to almost miss catching Conrad's next throw. "So I shouldn't pay any attention to it, then?"

"Well, many couples make birthdays into a unique lovers' holiday. I'm sure Wolfram wouldn't mind if _you_ presented him with some token or other." Conrad smirked and Yuuri whipped the ball at him again with a scowl. A few minutes of baseball practice went on in silence. Conrad looked a bit confused. Yuuri usually wasn't so sensitive.

A wagon clattered into the courtyard, loaded with nondescript barrels. Yuuri turned and approached with interest. He was trying to get more of a grasp on the everyday workings of the castle, in the hope that it would make his daily heaps of paperwork a little simpler.

"Yuuri!" The voice came from above, on one of the balconies. He knew who it was before he looked up. Yuuri smiled a bit stiffly and waved at Wolfram. "Wait, I'm coming down!" He had on his little beret, and Yuuri was afraid he wanted to try his hand at painting again. Yuuri considered trying to escape, but that would just make him the more irate. He didn't need Wolfram chasing him down with a battle axe. Again.

To pass the time until his fiancé made the trip through half the castle necessary to reach the courtyard, Yuuri turned back to the wagonload of barrels. "Hey, what's the delivery?" he asked cheerily of the driver, a short, skinny human boy. The boy turned, cloak sweeping aside, and time slowed hideously as Yuuri spotted the blackened-steel dagger, twisted blade glistening with fresh poison, speeding right for his chest.


	2. I Give You My Heart

Yuuri was sure he was going to die. He resigned himself to that. Conrad was rushing toward him, but he was more than sixty feet away, as per baseball regulation. There was no one else near the cart but the maids. Even if he'd been a competent warrior, he wasn't armed with anything but his glove. He heard Wolfram shriek his name and somewhere, in the strange calm of his mind as he faced death, he was sorry Wolfram had to see.

Yuuri's senses were all out of whack. He heard a cry and a gruesome shattering noise, a sickening sound for all the world like splintering wood, a scream, a splatter… The horrible sounds assailed his ears, followed by the scent of blood in the air. But it was an achingly long moment before he realized that Wolfram had jumped the three stories from the balcony to the yard and landed between Yuuri and his assassin.

Wolfram collapsed against Yuuri, eyes sliding closed as he went limp. The dagger glimmered in his chest, buried to the hilt. A thin stream of blood trickled from his mouth. Blood seemed to be everywhere, on the neat stones lining the courtyard, on Yuuri's hands as he struggled to support Wolfram, all over the immaculately white painting smock he was so fond of.

Yuuri was vaguely aware that Doria had driven a broom handle into the assailant's skull, Sangria ad kicked him in the ribs, and Lasagna was sitting on his chest pounding his nose to a pulp. He was sort of glad, in a distant way, but his attention was taken up elsewhere. He dropped to his knees, unable to support the deadweight that was his fiancé.

Yuuri stared down at Wolfram in shock. He should be getting help. He couldn't deal with this alone, though his hands were already thrumming with the glow of power as he threw all the healing energy he could muster into Wolfram's body. He meant to yell for Giesela, but his throat wouldn't quite work as he looked at the paling cheeks. Wolfram's eyelids had been fluttering for a while, those luxurious lashes battering against the lordling's cheeks, but gradually they slowed. Too still. He was entirely too still, and Yuuri was afraid to touch the knife for fear of ripping out Wolfram's heart in his attempts to heal. That poor heart had been through enough.

Was his pulse slowing? Yuuri hadn't paid the closest attention to first aid class. He could feel Wolfram's heartbeat below his fingers. What was it supposed to be?

Pressure stopped bleeding... but he didn't really dare apply any. His hand slid to cover the wound the best he could without dislodging the knife, fingers resting gently. Yuuri wasn't great at healing magic. He was much better at sending dragon-shaped water-golems to destroy things. But he tried, feeling exhaustion steal over him as he fed more and more of his power into Wolfram. He was forcing it, tiring himself not only with the loss of energy but the very act of driving the power out faster and stronger than he was used to, in a form he wasn't gifted at, and into an odd receptacle.

In truth, it was only a few seconds before Conrad reached the two, Josak relieved the maids (which disappointed them—apparently beating villains senseless was a pleasure they seldom got to satisfy), and half the castle had rushed out onto the lawn. Giesela was among the first to emerge. She was barking orders left and right, perfectly comfortable. Yuuri would have admired her if he'd been free.

As it was, he was having his arms pried from around Wolfram by Gunter, who was panicking because Yuuri had managed to splatter himself with almost as much blood as had stayed on Wolfram. The frantic cries of "Your Majesty!" finally pulled Yuuri back to himself, and he let Gunter pull him to his feet as Wolfram was loaded onto a stretcher, appallingly pale and still as stone.

Yuuri's eyes followed Wolfram as he was carried away, a few stray tears escaping, tracing furrows through the blood splashed on his cheeks. But he managed an answer. "I'm... f-fine. It's Wolfram's." He stood stiffly in Gunter's relieved hug. Somewhere, in a strange corner of his mind, it occurred to him that the blood would never come out of Gunter's white robes. As soon as Gunter let go, and half a dozen others also had to assure themselves he was alright (Yuuri wasn't sure who... probably Conrad, at least) he tried to speed after Giesela. Maybe he couldn't help, but it was his fault.

His fault. Wolfram had taken the knife for him. And, come to think of it, jumped three stories. It was worse than when Conrad had lost his arm. At least there'd been an understanding, however slow Yuuri was to accept it, that Conrad had sworn himself to laying down his life for the Maou. Wolfram... Wolfram was supposed to defend his king in a general sort of way, but his only sworn duty was as Yuuri's fiancé.

Wolfram loved him. Yuuri had never quite accepted that before, but now it could no longer be denied. And for that he'd been stabbed in the heart. Yuuri might as well have done it himself.

But when he tried to run after them, to stand by Wolfram however useless he might be, he fell again. Yuuri saw stars. He hadn't realized how much he'd weakened himself.

"Here, your Majesty, come with me. He's in good hands." Josak pulled Yuuri to his feet, lending a steadying arm. "Let's get you a cup of tea, hmm? Giesela will have him back to whining and trying to seduce you by tomorrow." He smiled kindly, but what kept Yuuri from trying to run off after Wolfram again had a lot more to do with the massive, powerful arm holding him in step with the devoted warrior.

Yuuri was forcibly marched into the kitchen and served tea and biscuits of some kind by three suddenly bloodthirsty housemaids, who divided their time about equally between cooing gently to the obviously bereaved monarch and regaling each other with their increasingly heroic exploits.

Later, they'd make a variety of changes to the established odds in the royal love pool. Wolfram was shooting ahead.

As soon as Josak relaxed his vigilance, taken up instead by Sangria's cookies, Yuuri slunk out of the kitchen, hurrying the best he could to Wolfram's bedroom. Hurrying was a relative term. His legs were still shaky, and his head swam if he tried to shift too quickly. He hesitated to knock, standing across the hall from the door. If he interrupted Giesela… It hadn't been very long. He might put Wolfram in _more_ danger. Or the danger might already be over… for the worst of reasons. Wolfram had been _stabbed in the heart_. He was an accomplished Mazoku warrior, but Yuuri knew for a fact he wasn't immortal, and it seemed you'd have to be to survive that.

As he stood, trying to talk himself into knocking, Giesela stepped out of the room, sighing. She looked even more exhausted than Yuuri, her face white as a sheet but for dark circles under her eyes. She didn't look like she'd slept in days. Yuuri had a vague memory of seeing her chipper and her usual scary self earlier.

Yuuri opened his mouth to ask, but she cut him off with a very tired smile. "He'll live." She walked across the hall, very wearily but not as unsteadily as Yuuri, and patted him fondly on the shoulder. "You saved him, Your Majesty. The knife was coated in a nasty poison. If you hadn't shot him full of power, it would have spread through his body in seconds."

"He only got hurt because of me." Yuuri sniffed, and Giesela waited patiently for him to regain himself. "Is he... healed?"

"Oh, no, that'll take days, even with my best efforts." She sighed apologetically. "I'm doing my best, but while he's stable, Wolfram is... in pieces." She smiled awkwardly, as though trying not to laugh and knowing it wasn't funny. "He broke both legs when he hit the ground. In a couple of places. He dashed his head on the railing when he jumped, and managed to sprain his sword arm twice vaulting over, as far as I can tell. The dagger missed his heart, but only by a fraction, and even with your help, the poison complicates things. A few days of bed rest, with all my work and maybe one of Anissina's new toys, and he should be functioning again. Until then... I'm afraid your treasured fiancé is out of commission." She wasn't too tied to tease.

Yuuri nodded sadly. At least Wolfram would be alright. As long as he consented to bed rest for a few days, which was disturbingly unlikely. "Can I see him?"

"Oh, he's awake. And complaining." Giesela barely managed to conceal an eye-roll. "Go ahead and visit a little." She stepped aside, holding the door.

Yuuri walked in shyly. Wolfram's eyes were open. Yuuri was struck very, very hard by how afraid he'd been never to see those dangerous, beguiling eyes again. Beyond that, he looked much as he had when Yuuri had last seen him, unmoving and pallid.

"Wolfram?" His voice didn't rise above a timid whisper.

"Wimp," came the readily anticipated response, weak and hoarse, but unquestionably Wolfram, alive and as close to well as could reasonably be expected. "How humiliating. To have a fiancé so weak he needs rescuing from a human child with a knife." Wolfram stopped for a weak cough. "And then to be rescued _by_ him."

"I'm sorry, Wolfram. I'm so glad you're getting better." Yuuri paused to wipe away another stray tear. He realized as his hand brushed dried blood that he was still filthy. Wolfram was sure to be revolted. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Hmm, since _someone_ was stupid enough not only to approach an assassin but to force a Maou's worth of healing power into me, not bad." His head turned slowly, and Wolfram's eyes met Yuuri's. He actually started to smile, which made Yuuri really think he was suffering.

"You shouldn't have done that, Wolfram. It should be me on that bed." Without the broken legs and cracked skull. Though perhaps with a lot more poison rushing through his bloodstream.

"It's my duty to protect my king and my beloved fiancé." His eyes closed for a moment, before opening halfway again. "Yuuri." It was a ghostly smile, but a smile it undeniably was. Yuuri checked to be sure he was only asleep, his heart seemed to freeze in his chest in the moments between Wolfram dozing off and checking his pulse. Weak, but there. And in another moment he was snoring almost as loudly as ever.

It had been an exhausting hour, and Yuuri had nothing left in him after he made sure Wolfram was alive. He sat beside the bed and immediately fell asleep against it, his head resting beside Wolfram's as he dosed. When Giesela returned five minutes later, she dropped a blanket over his shoulders with a smile and went on with her work. Later, Gunter wandered by and was mildly scandalized, but for the Maou and his fiancé, a trying day was over.


	3. Duties of the Maou

Yuuri was roused by Giesela at about ten that night. She would have been pleased to let him just remain collapsed there, but it didn't seem fair leaving him to wake immobilized from sleeping with his body contorted like that. Yuuri was being sweet, but Wolfram didn't need watching over and the Maou didn't need to spend the day with every muscle in knots.

She practically yanked Yuuri from Wolfram's bedside. "He will be _fine_, Your Majesty." Giesela's eyes began to narrow, hinting at the dangerous fury within that could be unleashed any moment. Yuuri was determined to oversee Wolfram's full recovery, but he was not quite suicidal.

He left reluctantly, still stumbling a bit from leftover exhaustion and the fact that he'd spent about eight hours kneeling. This was a kind of soreness he'd never imagined. Not the discomfort that came of a hard baseball practice or like that of various injuries he'd picked up. Just pain with no purpose except to remind him to sleep better. Ouch.

Yuuri intended to limp off to his own room. He was still tired, needing to replenish what he'd spent securing Wolfram's system from the poison. And Greta never slept well if she didn't get tucked in. And then immediately kick off the blanket and start writhing around the bed at least as much as Wolfram.

But then he remembered he still hadn't washed off the blood and dirt from his earlier ordeal. Even Yuuri found that rather off-putting. Gross. He was glad Wolfram had been too weak to tear into him about appearing in such a disgraceful state. While a little of the blonde's whining had been comforting, Yuuri was finding Wolfram's taunts bothered him more lately. He wasn't sure why that would be.

It was late, but the baths were warm and ready. Yuuri was starting to suspect they were magic. Either that or Anissina had rigged up one impressive system of boilers and plumbing. Probably both, actually. Yuuri stripped and sank into the bath with a contented sigh. He was afraid for a moment he'd be slipping back to earth before he remembered that he controlled his own passage now.

And the thought of what his mother would say if he turned up in the kiddie pool still smeared with Wolfram's blood—he didn't want to imagine.

Yuuri put his head back and sighed, finally relaxing. He sank into the water, soaking a bit before he got to scrubbing. With his eyes half open, the flickering lamps above the bath were reduced to smears of golden light. Looked like the sun shining on Wolfram. Only the glow from that hair was far more blinding. Not to mention entrancing. Yuuri smiled sleepily, not alert enough to catch himself in thoughts he'd normally have forced from his mind.

He sank in the bath. It felt like layers of filth were being peeled off him. It felt lovely, the calm, hot water enveloping him, thoughts of Wolfram floating vaguely through his mind. Yuuri made himself snap to attention. He didn't have all night to linger. Greta needed him, and he'd want to be up nice and early to check Wolfram. And then do two days' worth of work in return for skipping all of this one.

Maybe he could convince Gunter to do it. Would it be unforgivable to ask it as a special favor, eyes wide and tilting forward a little? He didn't like manipulating Gunter, but if he could stay with Wolfram, it'd be worth it. Somewhere the morals would even out.

He finished scrubbing the blood and dust away and toweled off. Yuuri sighed, wrapping the towel around his waist and limping back to his room. He yawned as he crawled into bed, situating himself with difficulty around his daughter, who was spread-eagled in the middle of the mattress, muttering something about sheep.

The next morning, Yuuri really did intend to rise with the sun and run back to Wolfram. Instead he was shaken awake about midmorning by an unapologetic Conrad, who just nodded politely when Yuuri objected. Greta woke and followed as Conrad hurried him through dressing and marched him out into the hall.

As Yuuri had feared, she hadn't slept very well, left alone for half the night. Without someone to cuddle if she so desired, Greta's subconscious mind took that slight loneliness and amplified it back to the days of her neglect in her original home. She hooked her little fingers into Yuuri's belt loop as they walked, yawning a bit.

They arrived and Yuuri resigned himself to a day full of paperwork and worry. When he entered, however, it was to find Gwendal and Gunter within, looking grave, and Josak looking a bit less carefree than usual. Maybe it was just Gunter looking grave. It wasn't as though Gwendal had another expression. But Yuuri did determine something was up, using his incredible skills as a detective.

"What're we all looking cranky about?" Maybe his lingering tiredness made him think that was funny. Yuuri groaned internally to realize he'd actually said something that stupid.

"Are you all sad because Wolfram got hurt?" Greta had been brought up to speed by Anissina, but hadn't had a chance to visit her father. She was quite worried.

"There's the pressing question of what to do with the attacker," Gwendal said quietly, looking mildly disgruntled. Greta stuck out her lower lip at him, and he visibly wilted.

"Of course, I knew Your Majesty would be a proponent of mercy." Gunter looked at him for a moment with adulation, entirely missing Greta and Gwendal's staredown. "But the seriousness of this crime is such that mercy would be unjust."

Yuuri had, in fact, been about to suggest that they find the assassin a comfortable room and try talking things out. But then he thought of Wolfram collapsing against him in a shower of blood. An unfamiliar spark of wild energy lit in him, and for a moment there flashed something in the Maou's eyes that had never been seen there before. Only Gwendal managed to catch it, as he was studiously looking away from Greta's admonishing glare.

He looked as though he didn't know whether to be pleased or worried, which translated to a slightly increased furrow on his brow and a miniscule tilt to his head.

Yuuri was back to his usual wimpy self in a moment. "Do we know why he attacked..." He considered. "Me?" It had been at Yuuri that the knife was directed. But had the intended victim just been anyone who happened to be nearby? Or was it a royal assassination?

Annissina appeared with hair and dress sweeping dramatically about, throwing the doors aside and striding into the room with purpose, lugging what looked like a bucket and several metal palm branches. "He's a member of one of those human groups that have been springing up lately." She slammed the contraption onto the desk. Gunter, Gwendal, and even Josak shied away. Greta ran up to examine it in excitement. Squealing. "I have that by the supremely trustworthy testimony extracted by Mr. Don't Even Try Lying To Me!"

"The lie detector you've been working on?" As the only one in the room truly safe around one of Anissina's toys, Conrad allowed a _tiny_ bit of smugness to creep into his polite smile.

She scowled. "Mr. Don't Even Try Lying To Me does much more than detect lies. It highlights the grains of purest truth within any statement and elevates that to prominence! It gives the one lying reason to repent his wickedness!"

Yuuri pictured an electric shock accompanying the detection of a lie. He was _completely_ correct.

"Right." Yuuri nodded. "…What groups?"

Gunter looked disgusted. "There's been a growing movement among certain humans opposing the alliances Your Majesty forged for Shin Makoku. They feel that Mazoku are inherently evil, that the alliance is destroying all that's good about humanity, and that all this evil must be destroyed at the source. Ridiculous." Gunter sniffed, then looked slightly contrite, as though remembering his audience. But only slightly. "It's a more malicious form of the same fear Your Majesty has worked so hard to allay."

Yuuri considered. Once again, he felt a stirring of something horrible, a blind fury that wanted to inflict on the puny human boy what had been done to Wolfram, send a message to anyone who would use such horrible tactics. But that wasn't him.

"Precisely!" Anissina's voice broke through his reverie. Yuuri had thought the explanation was at an end. "He was sent to assassinate the Maou, chosen because he looks harmless more than anything else. Or that's my guess. Of course, he's male, so that's to be expected." She shrugged. "The poison used on the knife was the Tears of El, extracted from a plant that grows only on a mountain sacred to some human deity. They feel that makes their murders into divine justice."

"Potent stuff," Josak said quickly, just wanting a break from Anissina's babbling. "It's got an odd smell, like the dust that rises after a little rain." Yuuri distantly remembered that, though he'd been a little busy at the time.

"Right. So this was an intended strike at the heart of the alliance, to take down morale among not only Mazoku, but those humans who dared defy tradition and side with us." Anissina looked disdainful as only she could.

"What does Your Majesty decree must be done with him?" Gwendal looked ready to be annoyed.

Yuuri was tempted to advocate diplomacy and mercy, but… This was a direct strike _against _his attempts at just that. How to appropriately respond to someone who was trying to ruin peace and happiness? To answer with violence was to let them win, to prove that what Yuuri was trying to achieve could be torn down. But to let him get away without proper punishment showed the Maou wasn't able to defend his peaceful world.

A strike right at the heart of the alliance... So Yuuri wasn't really the victim they were going for. Shin Makoku's pact with human nations was. And then he had a solution. "This was an attack against all of us. Cavalcade, Caloria, everyone. So the alliance will decide his fate." Yuuri tried to whirl on his heel. He managed instead to almost fall over and had to steady himself on the desk. "Gunter, please send messages to all our human allies. Everyone will weigh in on this man's punishment." And, because he was Yuuri, he had to add, "And please suggest that I advocate justice, not vengeance..."

"Wimp."

Yuuri spun around and really did fall against the desk. Gunter caught him deftly and righted the Maou with a sheepish smile. Once he was properly balanced, he was free to finally stare at the door, where Wolfram stood, already being energetically hugged by Greta. She'd been getting bored with the grown-ups talking.

Though the picture Wolfram made with the tiny girl clinging to his waist was quite endearing, he looked like a very slightly animated corpse. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were only half open (if as fiery as usual). He was wearing what Yuuri thought was Conrad's shirt. The array of bandages on his chest was apparently too bulky for one of his usual, form-fitting outfits. Yuuri couldn't even guess who the loose, gray pants belonged to, worn to threads and not beginning to hide the elaborate wrappings on Wolfram's legs. He was even leaning on a cane. As un-Wolframlike a picture as Yuuri could imagine.

But the look on his face was entirely characteristic, that smug scowl Yuuri suddenly found a hint of affection in. How strange.

Behind him, Yuuri heard snickering. He was about to start scolding when he realized it was Conrad laughing. And... Gwendal.

"Oh, and what's amusing you?" Wolfram spat venomously.

"Isn't that...?" Conrad trailed off, covering his mouth with one hand, failing absolutely to hide his smirk.

Gwendal finished, his dour expression looking disrupted by the smile, rather than seeming more cheerful. "...Grandfather's cane?"

Yuuri saw tiny tongues of flame licking from Wolfram's fingertips. They disappeared within an instant and Wolfram teetered a little, leaning against the doorframe, still looking as sour as could be.

"I think it's a nice cane, Wolfram! Look, it's got flowers carved in it. I like it!" Greta looked up and grinned, forcing Wolfram to smile back, though it was an awkward, pasted-on smile that Yuuri found unsettled him.

"What an excellent plan, your Majesty!" Gunter, it seemed, had successfully ignored the entirety of that conversation. "What wisdom! What kindness!" Gunter hugged Yuuri and paused, finding him non-responsive. He wasn't even stiff. The Maou was simply _ignoring_ him. Gunter's face fell in total devastation.

"Wolfram, Giesela said that to heal properly you need bed rest." Yuuri's voice was low, almost a whisper, and he took a step toward Wolfram, unwittingly dragging Gunter behind. "At least a few days' worth."

"Hmph. I've only been up for twenty minutes. I've had plenty of rest. I can't leave you alone to run the country into the ground with your wimpy tactics."

Yuuri seemed not even to be listening. "Right. Your legs are both broken! You shouldn't be standing up, never mind walking! Even with a cane!"

"Grandfather's cane." Gwendal was clearly enjoying himself. You could tell by the substantial decrease in the angle his eyebrows made.

"Gwendal, if you're mean, I'll stop helping with your knitting." Greta easily glowered him into submission. "Yuuri's right. You should rest up and get better, and Yuuri and me will bring you a birthday cake and some warm broth." She went mostly ignored by her fathers, but she didn't mind much. It was funny to watch them tell each other off.

"I'm fine." Wolfram seemed to have noticed the change in his fiancé, the uncharacteristic focus and determination. "Giesela has been recruiting maids and guards to feed energy into me. I'm fine."

"Bed rest," Yuuri repeated, clamping his hands onto Wolfram's shoulders. "Magic speeds and assists healing, but it doesn't replace real recovery. Go to bed and rest."

"Yuuri, I—"

Yuuri tightened his grip, digging into Wolfram's shoulders just a little. He wasn't sure what might be tender. "The Maou commands it! Do I need to make Josak carry you?"

Josak suddenly looked interested, where before he'd been busy reverse-alphabetizing the books on the shelves.

While Gwendal quietly laughed into his sleeve, Conrad smirked, and Gunter looked on in silent admiration, Wolfram was led out of the room, slowly but very firmly. Yuuri marched him into the hall to avoid the assorted eyes on them. "Wolfram, I was told you were in pieces, and I've never known Giesela to be wrong. I am not letting you hurt yourself more limping around the castle to yell at me!"

"Yeah!" Greta wanted in on the scolding-Wolfram fun.

The tirade didn't have exactly the effect he was looking for. Wolfram gave a tiny smile. "This is an interesting side to you."

"Is it... not wimpy?"

"Less." Wolfram wavered a bit where he stood and sighed. "Hmm. I guess some more rest couldn't hurt. The sooner I get well the sooner there will be someone to keep a proper eye on you."

Yuuri frowned a bit, resisting the urge to pout. For one thing, no one could hope to stand up to Wolfram's perfect model's pout, or Greta's ten-year-old-girl's. For another... Why the hell would Wolfram's attitude make him sulk? He should be used to being taunted. It hadn't bothered him for a long time. "And it's a royal order. Don't forget that." He abruptly slipped his arm around Wolfram's waist, stiffening then shivering as he did so. This was… very awkward.

"Yuuri!" The Maou turned his head when he heard his name and almost drowned in a sea of sparkling green.

He recoiled a little, at least enough that he could see more of Wolfram's face than those jewel-like eyes. Not that he cared—in the _least_—whether Wolfram's eyes were jewel-like. "It's the fastest way to get you back to bed without risking more injuries. Don't read anything into it." Yuuri scowled, looking away, trying to hold Wolfram steady with the least possible contact. He could swear Wolfram was purring. He _really_ hoped there was a cat nearby. Assuming cats in Shin Makoku purred. He'd learned not to assume things like that.

"Gotcha!" Greta tried to cling to Wolfram's other side, but found she didn't fit where the cane did. So she ran off to find the doctor instead.

Giesela met them before they'd made it down even one hallway, fire in her eyes. "I hope you're returning my patient, Your Majesty." She seemed to be toning down her unbounded fury for the Maou's benefit, though he still felt threatened.

"Of course. He's under the Maou's royal edict to stay in bed until he's recovered much more." Yuuri stuck his nose in the air in what he imagined was a dignified and kinglike manner.

Wolfram giggled. _Giggled!_

Yuuri coughed. "I can have Gunter write it up legally if you make me."

"How sweet to treasure your fiancé's wellbeing so." Wolfram smiled fetchingly. ...No. Not fetchingly at all. Obnoxiously. Yuuri handed him over to Giesela, who smiled like a successful crocodile. Wolfram immediately began to whine, and Yuuri beat a fast retreat, back to the relative safety of Gunter's praise for his decision and a lot of paper to sign.

Sometimes... Wolfram made him uneasy.


	4. Sunlit Reverie Unlikely

**A note from the author:** _About the Chapter Three thing… uploading should probably be banned after three in the morning. There were just a lot of mistakes, technical, stylistic, and just general in my first posting of three. If you didn't read the new edition, you probably should. It's better, among other things, and it has Greta cuteness. Anyway, onto the actual story as it stretches into length and complexity well beyond my best-laid plans._

It had been a very rough few days for Yuuri. Sending out requests to all the nations in the alliance for rulings on the fate of the assassin had sounded like a good idea, but when he realized the number of letters to be written, with precise details and personal salutations, Yuuri was tempted to just issue a full pardon and hope the murderous human collective reformed.

And there had been no cessation to his usual workload. In fact, it had been increasing steadily as Gunter and Gwendal came to trust Yuuri more and more to manage his own kingdom. He was developing a constant cramp in his hand that made baseball and fencing practice very painful.

Yuuri was pretty sure he had finished for the day, but in case Gunter was waiting to track him down, he was tiptoeing through the halls toward Wolfram's room. His fiancé slept most of the time, and no one could fault his concern. Wolfram was the perfect cover for his escape.

And so pretty when he was napping.

Yuuri winced. In a purely aesthetic sense! Wolfram was decorative! On par with Gwendal's little creations.

He opened the door expecting to see Wolfram sprawled out and snoring. Maybe with braids in his hair, which both Greta and Giesela found very amusing. Yuuri could see why, though Wolfram didn't agree.

But rather than sleeping, Wolfram was sitting up and drinking tea while reading to Greta. "And so the brave ladies of _Shinou's Pride_ were rewarded with the rulership of the ten provinces of Shin Makoku upon their triumphant return, every one of the Dread Pirate Crew's men held in cages pulled by dragons. The end."

Greta bounced on the side of the bed. "Yay! Read another one!"

Yuuri came in silently and sat on the end of the bed. He wouldn't interrupt story time. He was sufficiently pleased to see Wolfram looking better. Not entirely _well_, but better. He wasn't as deathly pale, the bandages weren't so heavy and constricting, and he didn't hold himself so rigidly. He was moving without pain. Somewhere deep within himself, Yuuri felt a warm stirring, something deeper than happiness at the wellbeing of a friend.

"Oh, don't even say hello, that's polite. I'm ashamed to take you out in public!" Wolfram tried to throw the book at Yuuri. It fell extremely short.

"At least your snottiness is all better," Yuuri returned lamely, picking up the book and handing it politely to Greta. "I hope you've been driving him crazy."

"Uh-uh! We read the story about how Anissina saved the dragon preserve from a massive army or poachers, and the one where Anissina battled the monster narwhal off the coast of Caloria to save the villagers, and then the one about defeating the pirates! They're so cool! Wolfram likes them too!"

"Wolfram also likes having his voice," the blonde muttered, a bit sullenly. Yuuri did detect a certain scratchiness to his tones that suggested reading three epic tales of Anissina's triumphs might have been a little much for his vocal cords.

"Maybe I should try reading the next one." He'd gotten much better at picking out the script of Shin Makoku, though his still wished Adelbert had been able to beam literacy into his head along with the language.

"Okay! The one I wanna read is about how Anissina drove man-eating monsters out of the guesthouse!" Somehow, that plot seemed familiar to Yuuri, but he didn't argue, accepting the book back. Greta climbed onto his lap, and Wolfram lay back on the pillows with a smile.

Giesela stepped into the room. "Oh, Your Majesty, good! Just who I wanted to see!" She flicked the end of Greta's nose, earning a giggle, as she spoke. "I think Wolfram is well enough to get some fresh air around the grounds. I don't trust him not to do anything blatantly imbecilic, though, and I don't have time to walk with him. Dorcas fell down a flight of stairs carrying four of Doria's cauldrons, your assailant needs the bandages on his nose changed, and Morgiff took a big chunk out of Josak's finger earlier. Do you think you could go out with him?"

"Sure." Yuuri would rather dodge his responsibilities out in the sun. Having Wolfram limping along wouldn't be so bad. "Greta, does that sound okay? If we all go for a walk?"

"Yay!" She bounced again. "We could have a picnic!"

"I guess we could." It was four in the afternoon, so he wasn't sure what they would be eating. A late lunch of an early dinner? Yuuri hadn't had anything since breakfast, and now that she mentioned it, he was starving.

Wolfram pushed himself up. "Ahem! Has anyone thought to ask how I feel about this?"

Yuuri looked away and rolled his eyes for a moment. "How do you feel about taking a walk, Wolfram?"

"Um... Good, I guess."

"Well, then." Yuuri tried not to look too exasperated. "Come on, Greta." She hopped onto his back and he resigned himself to being a piggyback ride. Yuuri got off the bed and held out a hand to Wolfram, who gripped it and pulled. A bit weakly. Yuuri threw his back into lifting and ended up stumbling backward when Wolfram let go. Greta giggled while her fathers glared at each other for a moment until Giesela helped Wolfram stand.

He was unsteady and his legs were still tied up in what Yuuri guessed was about an inch of bandages. Giesela gave him back the cane and Yuuri pointedly ignored it, as well as ignoring his daughter laughing somewhere right by his ear. Wolfram was definitely walking a little better, Yuuri noted, and that was a step in the right direction.

Greta reached out to tug Giesela's sleeve. "How long before he's all better?"

"Could be as much as a month before he'll be up to anything strenuous, but it shouldn't take more than a week for him to be walking again." She smiled gently and ruffled Greta's hair, then bowed slightly and left, presumably to deal with Dorcas. Greta jumped down from Yuuri's back and caught Wolfram's hand as well as Yuuri's, leading them both toward the door. She went as slowly as a child could force herself. If Wolfram got hurt again, it would be simply terrible!

Yuuri smiled down at her, then directed his attention at his fiancé. Wolfram's legs were steadier and he wasn't wobbling conspicuously, but he still winced with every step. Yuuri was struck by a sudden wave of guilt. That Wolfram had to go through pain just because Yuuri had been stupid had been making him sick for days. He hadn't realized, however, just how far-reaching the consequences would be. A month!

Most of Wolfram's joy in life (that which didn't tie in to annoying Yuuri, anyway) seemed to come from riding, fencing, producing magic fire to toss at things... All definitely in the category of "strenuous." He was happy enough reading to Greta for a few hours, but he'd soon be miserable if he were stuck that way.

Greta was chattering about a dollhouse Dorcas was apparently making for her and Wolfram nodding politely. Yuuri tried to listen, but his attention was called back again and again to Wolfram. He was holding up well, still slightly aglow about having saved Yuuri, enjoying the attention a bit. But Yuuri saw a tightness in his mouth that was usually associated with traveling by ship or a major faux pas by the Maou.

Yes, Wolfram was ready to be miserable and already sinking into it.

Yuuri balked as they reached the stairs. This was going to be awkward. If he offered to help, Wolfram would have a fit of pride and refuse all assistance. He'd hurt himself. If Greta offered, he'd behave, but she couldn't really do much toward his safety.

And Yuuri had to fall back on something he'd been hoping he'd never have to do again. Once more, his arm slid around Wolfram's middle, trying to keep his distance and still offer maximum support. Wolfram didn't euphorically sigh Yuuri's name this time, but his eyes distinctly did that glimmery thing that disconcerted the Maou so deeply. At least it kept him distracted enough for Yuuri to half-carry him down the stairs without incident.

"Greta, if you want a picnic, you'll have to go ask the girls to give us something, okay?" Yuuri made sure he sounded as grave and kingly as he knew how (not very). Greta preferred her errands to be of great import.

She snapped to attention and saluted. "I will!" The girl scampered off to the kitchen, and Yuuri once more was left standing, with nothing to occupy his thoughts but his very morose-looking fiancé.

"Wolfram, do you feel better?" Maybe it was a lame question, but he couldn't ask what he really wanted to know. _Are you utterly miserable because of me, and about to get much worse?_

"Mostly. Giesela must be overestimating recovery time a great deal. I'm sure I'll be back to myself within the week." Wolfram's nose was in the air, his voice was stilted, and he didn't meet Yuri's eyes.

"Well, alright." Yuuri's bland tone made it clear he wasn't successfully bluffed. "Then, for the 'next few days,' I'll see if I can organize a few things to keep you entertained. ...It will keep me out of Gunter's history lessons." Explaining away the least kindness to Wolfram had become a reflex to him.

"If you're desperate for an excuse." Wolfram's expression was unreadable. Yuuri thought he saw the ghost of a smile, but he didn't know how a smile could coexist with a disdainful frown.

"Oh... I am." Wolfram wasn't an amazing liar, but Yuuri was transparent. "Maybe—" He'd been about to suggest a birthday party before he remembered what Conrad had told him. And he didn't even know exactly when that birthday was. It had already passed, for all he knew. Yuuri resolved to ask Conrad. "Um..." He grappled desperately for a suggestion to save himself. "A party for your friends, the elite squad of, um, really pretty magic users?"

Wolfram's eyes flashed, and for the next minute the Maou was very glad the injury kept him from throttling Yuuri very effectively. How dare he call a bunch of low-level noble scions pretty when his lovely fiancé was right before him, etc. Wolfram ran out of righteous fury very quickly, for him. Yuuri wasn't even bruised.

"That... wouldn't be entirely unpleasant. And it would be a good chance for you to practice your manners!"

Yuuri nodded. That was as close to a "yes" as he'd get from Wolfram. He apparently didn't hate the idea. So that was one night of thirty taken care of. Yuuri's mind spun, desperately searching for something else to keep Wolfram from wretchedness at his confinement. Before he came up with anything, Greta returned, lugging a packed picnic basket.

"Lasagna gave me bread and two kinds of cheese and little cucumbers all chopped up and cold turkey and a bottle of berry juice and cookies!" She held the basket up with a triumphant grin. "It's a good picnic, right?"

"Oh, the best!" Wolfram's face was once again a mask of cheer. Yuuri leaned down and took the basket from Greta.

"I'll carry that. You make sure that pretty cane serves Wolfram well." Yuuri was sweet, but not without his devious ways. On level ground, Greta would be sufficient to make sure Wolfram walked as comfortably as possible, and he could no more refuse help from his adorable daughter than his darling fiancé.

Yuuri opened the door and held it for the other two. Wolfram blinked owlishly when they stepped into the sun. He really had been cooped up too long. Yuuri glanced over the castle grounds. "Where should we head?"

"Ooh, by the flower gardens and the pond! That's the best place for picnics. Gunter sometimes takes me there." She started to pull Wolfram in the indicated direction, caught herself, and reduced the yanking to a very gentle tug. Yuuri smiled, just watching them for a moment before he caught up. He couldn't think of a sight he loved more.

Because his daughter was so cute and Wolfram's easy defeat by a ten-year-old was really funny, of course.

Greta was quite authoritative about the picnic itself. It seemed she was quite the expert, having extorted picturesque outdoor meals of sandwiches and cookies from just about everyone in the castle at one time or another. Including Wolfram, apparently, and Yuuri was suddenly quite annoyed with himself for having missed them all.

She spread out a checkered blanket and Yuuri helped Wolfram ease down on it. His appetite was much lessened, Yuuri noted with dismay. He only nibbled at his sandwich. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, so he let Greta do it.

"Wolfram, if you don't eat up all your food, you won't grow up big and strong like Yu—Oh, I guess you're taller than Yuuri already. Um, Condrad. You won't grow up big and strong like him. And I won't let you have any cookies!"

Under such fearsome admonishment, a stronger man than Wolfram would have quailed, and he did manage a few more bites. Yuuri looked closely and saw that he'd already lost some weight.

Yuuri had trouble saying anything that didn't come out awkward or much too affectionate for his own tastes. Or often both. Asking Wolfram if he was warm enough earned him the death glare of the century, and suggesting that maybe the whole family should sleep in the same room produced a shy smile that scared Yuuri a lot more than being glowered at. He eventually shut up and let Greta chatter the conversation onward. Wolfram seemed to be doing the same.

When all the cookies were eaten, mostly by Greta, Wolfram helped her clean up the mess they'd made. As he knelt to fold the blanket, he leaned down and whispered in her ear.

"Look over in the flower bed. Do you see that pretty yellow flower with the long petals? It's one of Lady Celi's. She named it 'Beautiful Wolfram.' I think if you ran and picked one for him, Wolfram would cheer up a little."

The truth was, Yuuri had been about to do that himself and his stomach had turned when he realized it. He was pleased when Greta nodded, grinned, and scampered toward the flowers. Yuuri finished packing away the plates.

He looked over his shoulder at Wolfram, who was staring glumly into space. When he thought no one was looking, Yuuri realized, his expression dipped a lot deeper into gloom. Yuuri stood, hefting the basket with him.

"You know, if we're going to have that party anyway, you can invite some extra people. Is there anyone else you don't get to see enough of? More friends?" He had what seemed to Yuuri like the cleverest of clever ideas. "Or maybe your father?"

He was never clear on what befell Lady Celi's assorted husbands. Conrad's father must be long dead, with a human's lifespan. But it seemed unlikely that Gwendal's and Wolfram's fathers would be outlived by such a relatively young wife.

Unless both had fallen in those hideous wars that had wracked Shin Makoku. Yuuri felt his heart freeze again, knowing that must be the case, because when he said the word "father," Wolfram's face fell like a stone.

"I'm sorry, Wolfram, I should have realized—!"

"I haven't spoken to him in fifty years." Wolfram's voice had been unnaturally stiff before, but now each fell from his mouth, solid and structured as ice, to shatter on the ground between them. Yuuri actually shivered.

So it wasn't what he'd thought. So what was it? ...Not his place to ask. Yuuri bit his lip to keep from blurting out an inappropriate question.

Wolfram went on, though, frozen words streaming hatefully from his mouth, like he was trying to expel poison. "Marrying my mother was an afterthought for him. He had two sons already." Yuuri started at the thought that Wolfram had yet _more_ older half brothers. "He only wanted to control Shin Makoku toward his own gain. He's a greedy fool. The one good thing Stoffel ever did was keep him out of power." Wolfram was seething with anger, fire flashing in those pretty eyes. Yuuri was too flustered to stop himself admiring the look on Wolfram's face. But he was much more afraid. This was a poisonous anger, nothing like Wolfram's usual petulant spite or fits of righteous fury.

Wolfram turned awkwardly away. "Once I was old enough to make it clear I wouldn't promote his interests over the kingdom's, he lost interest in me _and _in Mother and left court. Not that he was around very much before that. I tried to keep in contact, but he and my brothers ignored all my letters. They would be 'away' whenever I visited, even with a month's advance warning. As far as I know, he and Mother are still legally married, but I haven't considered him my _father_ since I was a child."

Yuuri swallowed, a heavy silence settling between them. He reached out tremblingly and set his hand on Wolfram's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't know," Wolfram said shortly, looking over his shoulder.

"No. I mean, I'm sorry about what happened."

Wolfram's eyes softened, the fire retreating and the ice melting all at once. He turned back toward Yuuri, a lordly eyebrow arched haughtily. "In fact, it's utterly disgraceful that you didn't know. We're engaged, and I know all about your family. We'll have to see about your education immediately!"

Yuuri was still trying to think of a way out of that one when Greta returned, running up between them and holding her flower aloft. "Here! Beautiful Wolfram!"

Wolfram blinked, taken aback. He tried to kneel, winced, and bent at the waist instead. His fingers closed almost hesitantly around the stem. "How sweet, Greta. But how did you know the ridiculous names Mother gives her flowers?" Wolfram, once flattered, had gotten to be embarrassed by the name over the years, as had "Secret Gwendal" and "Conrad Stands Upon the Earth." None of them had mentioned it in a long time.

"Yuuri told me," Greta said cheerfully.

Yuuri winced and looked away, blushing slightly and scowling. If he'd realized she'd be such a tattle-tale, he wouldn't have brought it up. But in a way it was worth it...

To see Wolfram smile like that again.


	5. Masque

Yuuri didn't think he'd ever, _ever_ try to plan a party again. All his subsequent treats for Wolfram would be nice and quiet and require no formal preparation whatsoever.

When he'd first brought it up, Yuuri had been mercilessly stared at. Gunter looked perplexed, Conrad shocked, and Gwendal disapproving. He'd been afraid to even explain why he wanted to throw a party for Gwendal's friends, but the plan had been saved by a passing Lady Celi. On overhearing the Maou's intentions (most likely intentionally eavesdropping), she had squealed, clapped her hands, and spun a perfect pirouette to toss the skirt of her flowing scarlet gown twirling around her knees.

Even more than Anissina, she knew how to make an entrance.

"A party! What an amazing idea! Oh, my, I'll have to get together a guest list and arrange for the hall to be decorated—Well, Dorcas can do that. But there's food and music and wardrobe to be attended to. It should be a masquerade! Yes, a masquerade ball!"

"I was thinking of a small sort of... dinner party?" Yuuri was exceedingly sorry he'd brought it up.

"Nonsense! You are the Maou and a gift to your fiancé should never be skimped upon! Now, should the masquerade have a theme? Dragons would certainly suit your Majesty. Maybe that's a smidge too complicated."

And, ultimately, Yuuri had to do very little himself. He'd seldom seen Lady Celi so content, rushing back and forth over the next two days squealing and ordering people around. What put him off even being proximate to party planning was the fact that all his trusty advisors blamed him (quite rightly) for the chaos, and being glared at all the time by Gwendal haunted his very dreams.

That, and the thought of having to do himself what Lady Celi had taken on horrified him. Admittedly, a meal for a few of Wolfram's friends would have been far less imposing to arrange, but when Yuuri saw Celi directing seven servants at once, he had to retreat before terror took him over entirely.

He spent a lot of time hiding in Wolfram's room as a result. When Greta was there, they all had fun. Or Wolfram tried to have fun and Yuuri did his best to bolster things while Greta enjoyed the attention. Stories were read, card-castles built, and birds fed at the windowsill. All very pleasant, and Yuuri found those times weren't even an excuse to avoid work, but rather a reason.

However, Greta found party planning amused her, and she'd taken to trailing Lady Celi like a very giggly shadow. Yuuri was often left lone with Wolfram. When his fiancé was awake and feeling fairly well, he would be lectured about etiquette, family history, how he should treat his fiancé, and the fact that he was being remiss in his duties as Maou. But when Wolfram was tired, in pain, or feeling dreamy, they usually just sat in silence. Yuuri would try to talk about things that interested him, like dragons and the rules of baseball, but Wolfram letting him have a word in edgewise meant Wolfram was too out of it to pay attention. And when they slipped into silence, Yuuri found himself having those disquieting thoughts again. Why should he care that Wolfram looked angelic in repose? ...Really, why? Because he did, and it was getting harder to deny.

Altogether, he preferred Wolfram to be asleep. That led him even faster down the path of undesired admiration, but he could, if he tried, pretend Wolfram wasn't there and read or daydream. That was nice.

Though the one time he'd decided to stretch out on the bed, after a very long history lesson from Gunter, and Wolfram had woken up, Yuuri had been traumatized for life by the pleased little purr and attempt to kiss him that ensued.

But now the night of the party had arrived and Yuuri had butterflies in his stomach. He'd really meant it to be a little get-together so Wolfram could have someone to talk to besides Yuuri and Greta. It had been a nice idea. Now it was... Well, damn, it was a ball.

And Yuuri was expected to wear the little cat mask Greta and Gwendal had made him. He was pretty sure that was Gwendal's revenge. That evil man.

There was one upside, though. For once, Yuuri was attending a formal event without his formal attire. He knew it looked kingly, but it just wasn't comfortable, physically or emotionally, to wear a giant rock and a section of carpet on his shoulder, and for all the talk of exquisite, giant gemstones and royal purple brocade, that was what they were. Rock and carpet.

Yuuri was wearing his usual attire, one of Gunter's careful replicas of his uniform. It was black, like the mask, so he thought it was a good idea. And the mask wasn't that bad, just an oval of black with little ears and whiskers.

It got a little worse when Greta ran up behind Yuuri and pinned a tail on his pants, giggling maniacally. She'd just been dressed in the next room by Doria, and was eager to show off her dragon costume. Anissina had found an old dress of her own that was the right shade of blue for Pochi, with sequins on it to suggest scales. That and a tiny scaled mask on an elegant stick had been about all Greta needed. Yuuri thought she had to be the cutest dragon ever seen in Shin Makoku, and by right of cuteness should get away with whatever she liked. He just didn't want to have a tail. But he couldn't tell her that.

Oh, hell, what was Wolfram going to say about that?

Yuuri picked Greta up and grinned at her, trying to keep his spirits up. She meowed at him and he tried not to sour again. She was just being his goofy little girl. He shouldn't be cranky with her just because he was wearing a ridiculous cat costume and felt like a total and complete idiot. Who wouldn't laugh?

There was a knock on the door. Greta jumped down and opened it. Conrad stood outside, looking entirely normal except that he was wearing a green coat. He smiled unabashedly at Yuuri's felinity. "Almost ready?"

"What are you dressed as?" Yuuri asked sulkily as Conrad admired Greta's costume profusely.

"Um, Gwendal. And he's dressed as me." Conrad easily ducked the pillow Yuuri flung at him. He bowed, admirably managing to keep it from being ironic. "I just wanted to make sure you were holding up. Mother's celebrations have a way of overtaking the best among us."

"I'm fine, but—"

"Conrad, that isn't fair! You have to have a _good_ costume. And a mask. Lady Celi said the whole point of a masquerade is a mask." Greta held hers to her face and posed in a rather apt imitation of Lady Celi. "You _must_ be properly attired for the ball."

Conrad looked a bit chastised, though he wasn't as tightly wound around Greta's little finger as his brothers. "I'm sure Mother has a few spares I can borrow if necessary."

"Then go do that! Right now!" Greta put both hands on Conrad's hip and shoved. He almost moved.

"Um, Conrad? One thing, before you go, um, find a proper mask." Yuuri wasn't sure how this was going to be received. "Just, when is Wolfram's birthday? Or was?"

Conrad managed to completely refrain from judgment. "The day after tomorrow, I believe."

"Oh." So that meant Yuuri had time. To not do anything if he knew what was good for him, apparently. But that was still time. "So, are we supposed to go downstairs any special time?"

"Well, you _are_ the Maou. Festivities tend to begin at your behest."

Yuuri started to curse and bit his lip so as not to do it in front of Greta. He hated being the king sometimes. It became so irritating to have all these rituals relying on him. And a party was _not_ a ritual. He was likely to be the most awkward person there, and the evening would carry on best without him.

"Right. Greta, want to go see if Wolfram is ready to go?" Yuuri hadn't, come to think of it, heard Wolfram's actual opinion on the party. They hadn't spoken of it. Every other subject had at least been touched on as Yuuri hid in Wolfram's room, but nothing had been said about this. Yuuri hoped he hadn't made the kind of mistake that would get him chased through the castle at swordpoint once his fiancé was up to it.

"Yay! Conrad, go get a mask." She put her hands on her hips and stood on her tiptoes, looking most severe.

"Yes, princess." He bowed so low his hair brushed the floor, and Conrad left with a wave. Yuuri took Greta's hand and led the way down the hall. He knocked on the door a little timidly.

"Who is it?"

"Greta and Yuuri!" She was bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet, eager to display her cotumse to her other father.

He wasn't sure. It seemed like there was a pause, but for all he knew, Wolfram hadn't meant it at all. "Come in."

Yuuri timidly opened the door and had to blink a few times to assure himself he wasn't dreaming. He also wasn't sure he liked the fact that he wasn't. Wolfram was undeniably resplendent, but so dazzling as to blind one. Literally. His clothes were cut the same as his usual attire. Wolfram's usual outfit was quite formal. But this was cloth of silver, lined with the darkest gray satin trim. Almost black. His mask matched, except rather than cloth it was solid silver, adorned with swirling abstract designs, set with smoky quartz.

Not for the first time, Yuuri felt very plain beside Wolfram.

"You look nice." Especially next to a cat. Though he did make a good pair with the tiny dragon who had run up and shouted "Shiny!"

Wolfram turned from the mirror he was shamelessly primping in. "I hope you don't find the color objectionable. Mother feels I'm entitled to dark gray as your fiancé, but I think it's rather forward of her."

"Oh, no, I like it." Out of the blue, he wondered exactly what rank was conferred on someone married to the Maou. "You make me look scruffy."

"Well, the mask used to be Mother's. And it helps that Gwendal didn't make any of this."

"Hey, Gwendal is getting better. Do you like my costume, Wolfram?" She pirouetted in precise imitation of Lady Celi. Greta was getting disturbingly good at portraying the former Maou.

Wolfram smiled and nodded. "What a wonderful dragon you make." He walked toward Yuuri. "Shall we head down?"

Yuuri tried not to look worried. Wolfram had been improving, but he wasn't completely better. He was clearly not comfortable walking on his own, but with his pride, he'd never carry the cane to the party. Wolfram would much rather hurt himself than be seen publicly as a weakling, in his own eyes. Certainly every party guest knew he'd jumped three stories and been stabbed with a poisoned knife, even if they didn't know he'd hurt his arm and suffered a slight concussion on top of it. They wouldn't care.

But Wolfram would never be persuaded. Yuuri sighed. He should just get used to this. He hooked his arm in Wolfram's, imitating the stately fashion in which he'd seen Lady Celi escorted. "I guess so."

Yuuri didn't know quite how to describe the sound Wolfram made. It was sort of a garbled "Eep!" He was going to hate himself for all this... this _touching_ once Wolfram was well enough to make unwanted advances again. He was doing it for Wolfram's own good! Not because he wanted to!

Greta grabbed Yuuri's Yuuri's free hand, shattering what was about to become a very uncomfortable moment. "Yay! It's time for the ball! Anissina taught me to dance yesterday. First I'm gonna dance with Gwendal, and then Gunter, and then Wolfram, and then Yuuri—"

"I've been told I'm not a very good dancer."

"Yeah, Beatrice said. That's why I'm giving you time to practice."

"You'd better not be practicing with anyone but me," Wolfram said, his voice threateningly deadpan.

"Um… Can you really—"

"Yes, I _can_!" Wolfram snarled more menacingly than any wolf.

"But, Wolfram, your toes have already been crushed! They don't need more of it!"

Wolfram was surely about to say something _truly_ scathing when Lady Celi appeared. "_There_ are my guests of honor! Well, hurry up. Guests are arriving and they're all _very_ impatient to meet with the _Maou_. For some, this is the _first_ time they'll have met you!" She wrapped her arms around both Yuuri and Wolfram from behind. "Oh, Your _Majesty_, I've never seen _anything_ cuter. Besides the princess, of _course_. And Wolfram _does_ look _divine_. Come, down the stairs. Oh, I _am_ atwitter!"

She was much scarier than Wolfram. Yuuri nodded, swallowed, and allowed himself to be led. They went slowly and Wolfram had no trouble with the stairs, leaning on Yuuri only the least little bit. He suspected Wolfram was also leaning on his mother, but certainly wouldn't have voiced that opinion.

The hall was fuller than Yuuri had ever seen it. What had happened to his quiet dinner? Ut had been such a wonderful idea in its original form. Now, according to Celi, everybody who was anybody in Shin Makoku was here.

"Wow! So many people!" Greta clapped her hands. "Where's Gwendal? He has to dance with me. Oh, it'll take forever to find him."

Yuuri was about to answer when he heard trumpets, and his name announced with all superfluous titles attached, "Shibuya Yuuri, Twenty-Seventh and Greatest Maou of Shin Makoku!" He blushed, slightly.

Why the cat costume?

Particularly, why the cat costume while linked by the arms to the radiant Wolfram? The rest of the room ranged from dazzling costumes on par with Wolfram's (though not one of them looked quite as good) to half-assed efforts like Yuuri's. Most fell in the middle, garish and odd-looking.

The music was loud, the mass of strangers overpowering, and the smell of wine, flowers, and too many bodies rather dizzying. Yuuri wanted to just retreat and bring Wolfram with him. Had this been a bad idea from the start, or had that begun when hijacked by Shin Makoku's premier socialite lunatic?

But he'd been announced, and, damn it, he was the Maou. The orphan-saving, artifact-finding, death defying magical adventures made this kind of thing worth it, but sometimes that was hard to keep in mind.

There was an immediate flow of guests toward the door Yuuri had walked in, all wanting to greet him deferentially. He saw a few familiar faces, and Gwendal (wearing a Spartan green mask that suited him fairly well) swept Greta up, so he didn't have to worry about her getting stepped on. Lady Flinn was there, smiling pleasantly, and Yuuri greeted her with sincere warmth. Stoffel and Raven made an appearance suffuse in warmth and insincerity, as usual, and Yuuri smiled. Most of the others, though, were near-strangers; Anissina's brother, the mayor of the nearest human village, several of Wolfram's compatriots, and more faces than he could begin to keep track of.

All the time Yuuri was greeting guests, Wolfram stood silent and regal beside him, exhibiting no more spirit than the wall hangings behind him. He did loosen up and chat with his friends a little, which kept Yuuri from really feeling miserable about this whole thing. But for the most part he just acted the part of the Maou's fiancé, charming and rather bland. This was supposed to be a treat for him.

The tide finally ebbed. Yuuri didn't know if he'd exchanged pleasantries with every guest or just most. He was, however, determined to get away from the doorway. He looked to Wolfram. "Should we go sit down for a while?" They'd been stuck there long enough that his feet hurt a little, though time was very hard to judge when caught in a hurricane of friendly but respectful small talk.

"I'm fine!" Why did Wolfram have to assume everything was about him? Yuuri gave up.

"Fine. What do _you_ want to do?"

"The dance floor isn't very crowded." Wolfram had always taken a particular pleasure in dancing, something he hadn't been able to satisfy since Yuuri's proposal. He wasn't stupid enough to try anything complicated with several foot bones shattered like so much glass and a few fractures in the leg bones. He was well on his way, but there were still splints and bulky bandages on his legs for a reason.

Yuuri winced. He couldn't dance. And he did _not_ want to dance with Wolfram. "I don't think—"

Wolfram set his hands on Yuuri's shoulders and leaned in so their noses were a mere hairsbreadth apart. "You'll dance with me or I will tell Lady Anissina that you let Gunter hide in your closet when she's after him."

Yuuri sighed. That was a potent threat. "Fine." Well, as soon as he stepped on one of Wolfram's toes, this would be over with. He let Wolfram lead him to the dance floor, where he spotted Greta dancing with Gunter. They looked happy, at least.

"Well, as I don't know how to do this—" Yuuri's last-ditch attempt to escape failed miserably as Wolfram took Yuuri's right hand and wrapped his left arm around the Maou's waist. Yuuri just stared, cheeks reddening already. Wolfram rolled his eyes, let go of the hand, and placed Yuuri's free arm over his own before taking it again.

"That must be the most basic position in all of dancing."

"Well, we never covered this in school," Yuuri said, petulantly. He was holding Wolfram's hand, being clutched around the waist, and their bodies were flush. There was no way this could possibly get worse. He was sweating a little bit as Wolfram slowly, gracefully despite his wounds, led Yuuri onto the floor to dance beside Gunter and Greta.

Yuuri blushed and looked everywhere but Wolfram's face, glittering mask and penetrating eyes. He occupied himself with smiling at Greta for a bit, and watching Gunter's face fall and brighten at the same time as he saw the Maou and his partner. That occupied him a little. But there seemed no end in sight. He guessed these songs were pretty long. Greta, had she stuck to her program, was only on her second dance.

One of the massive doors closed and the breeze blew a few stray locks of Wolfram's hair against Yuuri's cheek. He shivered and Wolfram looked away slightly. Yuuri finally found the courage to look his fiancé in the eye and realized Wolfram was nearly as flustered as Yuuri. His eyes were darting, his pale cheeks glowing with color, sweat beading along his hairline... Yuuri didn't know what to make of that, but somehow, he calmed down.

It was just a dance, after all. He'd danced with Beatrice.

"Pretty song. I like it." The words were just a little forced, but Yuuri actually did like the song, which helped him sound natural.

"It's a very old one. Composed by Lord Rance Eisen over a thousand years ago." Wolfram relaxed a bit, too. Or mostly relaxed. He was less tense, but Yuuri was fairly sure that Wolfram's grip on his hand had tightened. "It's called 'Parting at Morning.' This is only the instrumental, but song is a long ballad about two lovers reflecting on their situation. Very touching."

Yuuri couldn't help suspecting Wolfram of making a lot of that up. But he seemed happier when correcting Yuuri's ignorance, so he didn't argue. And this was easier while they talked, too. Yuuri could almost forget he was stuck dancing with a guy. They just talked as Wolfram guided his steps, and it was nice.

Yuuri thought the song might be drawing to a close. It seemed to have been going on forever. He was almost getting the hang of this dancing thing, too. But then Wolfram fell against him, almost knocking Yuuri over. He teetered a bit and found his footing by jamming his heel against Gunter's foot.

"Are you alright?" Wolfram had maintained the utmost grace. Yuuri hadn't seen the least sign he was getting worse. Maybe that was the problem. Wolfram had forced himself to the breaking point.

Wolfram, forehead pressed into Yuuri's shoulder, just whimpered, but a second later he snapped himself back to his feet. "I'm fine." And then he winced again.

"Wolfram, if you didn't already hurt yourself, you will in a moment. We're sitting down." The song ended, but Yuuri didn't pay attention. "Come on, get off your feet."

Wolfram would clearly have liked to argue, but he could see that his inability to support his own weight without obvious pain was losing him the argument. He just nodded, And Yuuri hooked his arm again, ready to lead the way back to the refreshment tables, where there were dozens of delicate little chairs.

"So I guess you can't dance with me, huh, Wolfram?" Greta sighed, peering up at them through her mask. "Well, next party you'll have to owe me."

"Or I could take his place, My Lady."

Yuuri whipped his head around at the unfamiliar voice. His eyes fell on a tall young man he was sure he'd never seen before. He was rather striking, with dark red hair swinging past his shoulders, brilliantly blue eyes, a tanned complexion, and strong features. That nose would have been too long, the cheekbones too high, on another face, but somehow looking chiseled made him resemble an artistic masterwork, not a sculpting student's mistake. His paramilitary garb was a familiar blue and gold, but the bulk was yellow and the trim blue, unlike Wolfram's clothes.

Wolfram made a gasping sound and went stiff beside Yuuri. The Maou immediately turned his attention to his fiancé, afraid he'd hurt himself again. Instead, he just looked stricken, like he'd seen a very unwelcome ghost.

"I'm sorry, but a lady only dances with friends and acquaintances," Greta said primly, holding her mask firmly in place. One had to wonder where she'd learned that. _Certainly_ not Lady Celi. "I think I'll find Dorcas next, or see if Gwendal wants to dance again. Yuuri should look after Wolfram. Come on, Gunter, help me find someone!"

"I wouldn't mind partnering you again, princess. There's no one else lined up." Actually, Gunter had a line of admiring girls. Looks like his promoted that. But Greta was the only one he wouldn't find it reprehensible to dance with. Especially where His Majesty could see!

Wolfram figured that was settled. Wolfram continued to look like a cornered deer for a moment, then stiffly cleared his throat. "Is Mael here as well?"

"Of course. It wouldn't be fitting for the younger brother to make an appearance alone. Father is coming to visit soon. We thought we'd herald his arrival at the ball and make ourselves known. We've been tragically busy at home, so there's been no time to make our way in this court." The young man smiled, and it made Yuuri's blood run cold. Mostly because of Wolfram's reaction. The smile was perfectly charming, but few things charmed him less than his fiancé going pale and leaning against his shoulder as though defeated.

The man turned to Yuuri and bowed. "I am Maddox Bielefeld. I am honored to make the Maou's acquaintance and can claim no real excuse for not having done so before."

Wolfram's brother? Yuuri would never have imagined. He couldn't imagine two people looking less alike. "Well, um, the honor... is all mine." He'd forgotten exactly what he was supposed to say. "If you'll excuse me." He took several deliberate steps as quickly as he could without having to drag Wolfram.

Dorcas passed by. Yuuri grabbed his sleeve and hauled him between Maddox Bielefeld and himself, ignoring the indignant squawk. He should be used to this kind of thing by now.

He put most of his effort into getting Wolfram away. It wasn't easy, as Wolfram was not only in pain but acting like a zombie. He had to be steered as well as supported. Yuuri set him down on a chair, poured two glasses of wine, and passed onto to Wolfram. It would calm his nerves. Yuuri only took some for himself because he sort of liked the taste. He had yet to get used to the stuff as a drink, prevalent as it was in Shin Makoku and throughout the world. It still tasted like a novelty to the Japanese boy whose father had only seldom allowed him a little taste of saké.

Wolfram downed the glass in one gulp. He slowly stopped looking like he'd been slapped with a dead fish, but he still didn't look like himself.

"Are you alright?" Once again, a stupid question.

"No." He bit his lip. "Yuuri, you can't fall for their tricks. They're making another power grab. Why else pay attention to me all of a sudden? They'll be trying to use you directly, but through me. They already know I don't care about their selfish agenda."

"Alright." Yuuri was always opposed to royal power being misused and people trying to control him. Those tended to both be bad things. He had no issues promising that. "I'm glad you look like your mother."

Now where had that come from? Yuuri hadn't even known he was going to say it until his mouth opened.

Wolfram stared at him a moment, expression sliding from wretched to blank to soft in the space of a few seconds. He reached out and his hand covered Yuuri's for just a moment. "Right. You may be a pitiful excuse for a Maou, but you're better than that." He slipped his hand away, to Yuuri's relief.

That was relief, right, that slight rushing sensation in the pit of his stomach? Had to be. Or maybe that was the wine. The half a sip of wine.

"Let me know if you see Mael coming. I can't deal with them both in one night." Wolfram took a long sip from Yuuri's glass.

"Um, what does he look like?" Yuuri could watch out for ochre hair and height, but that wasn't much to go on. He thought about challenging Wolfram on the blatant drink theft, but decided it wasn't worth it.

"Exactly the same. They're twins. But Mael wears a half-length cloak clasped with the Bielefeld crest. Carved into turquoise."

"Alright." Twins? Two of those? Yuuri really didn't like the idea of that. He liked the effect on Wolfram even less. "Twins? Then how is he older?"

"I guess they wrote down who was born first. I think their mother even had trouble telling them apart. For all we know, we were just talking to Mael." Wolfram shook his head disgustedly. "One is bad enough."

"Oh, I agree." He also wondered how Wolfram had managed to down his entire glass of wine. Yuuri hadn't even seen him.

"Wonder where he is." Wolfram pushed himself to his feet, glancing around the room. It was horribly crowded, but some cruel sixth sense guided him to his oldest brother (on that side; Conrad had a decade on the twins). He frowned, seeing Mael fawned over by three girls in elaborate gowns.

Yuuri followed his gaze and sighed. This was bad. The last one attempting to gain power over Yuuri had almost caused a war, and these two didn't seem so amiable as Stoffel. They probably weren't going to turn into mere nuisances once Yuuri firmly rebuffed their power plays.

And he hadn't even met Wolfram's father. Something told him Lord Bielefeld would be imposing indeed.

"Don't even look. It'll just upset you."

"Kay."

That alarmed Yuuri slightly. Wolfram had just... agreed? And so informally. He turned and realized, from the number of glasses now on the arms of their chairs, that Wolfram had drained another glass of wine while Yuuri was mulling things over. Were his brothers really bothering him that much? Or was this a vice Yuuri hadn't had a chance to see before?

He wanted to tell Wolfram to slow down, but was terrified of the repercussions.

"And how are you two enjoying the party?" Lady Celi materialized behind them, leaning over the chairs.

"Um, it's fine." Yuuri was tempted to tell the truth, but he was too polite. And prudent.

Wolfram looked up at her. Somehow, he looked more vulnerable that Yuuri had ever seen him. Or at least a different kind of vulnerable. His only weapon in this battle was his mommy. "Mother, Mael and Maddox are here."

"Are they? My, it's been _so_ very long. I really _must_ catch up with them, see how Evert's been doing. Why, they owe us a thousand visits by now." There was something very malevolent about Lady Celi's bright smile. Yuuri smiled back. Unleashing her on the deserving was suddenly a pleasure.

She clicked away, her spiked, metal heels making as much noise as the musicians currently were.

"What's this song?" Yuuri just wanted to keep Wolfram occupied. Their conversation stretched over an hour, making it easier to ignore the roomful of people. Gunter came by to tell them Greta was going to bed, and Yuuri felt bad for leaving her alone. But she was very happy, smiling even as she fell asleep on Gunter's shoulder. And Wolfram had needed someone.

Yuuri wished he could go to bed. And he was starting to think it would be a good idea if Wolfram did. Yuuri had lost track of the drinks he'd had, but he was looking flushed and making less and less sense.

Finally, he decided he would. The party would do wonderfully without him. Everyone at the ball had mostly been ignoring him for a while. Unbeknownst to him, word of the Maou's gentle tending to his injured fiancé had gotten around, and the general consensus was to let the happy couple be.

"Wolfram, let's go. There's not really a reason to stay anymore." He wished he could find Gwendal to carry Wolfram. Much less risk of injury. But that was a humiliation even Yuuri wouldn't have liked to endure, and it would probably do permanent damage to Wolfram's pride.

"Hmm. You... Right." Wolfram languidly held out his arm and Yuuri pulled. Wolfram was yanked up and promptly fell against him with a pleased sigh. Yuuri failed to recoil, which surprised him. Maybe he was just more forgiving of a wounded, depressed, and very drunk Wolfram.

"Come on. Oh, you're not going to be happy in the morning, are you?" It was almost a sincere question. Yuuri was rather tragically naïve. He'd seen his father and once his brother on a few too many, but he didn't really know what to do about it.

"Yuuri." Wolfram's arm ran around his shoulders as Yuuri once again stationed himself around Wolfram's waist. "G-gonna fall."

"No, I've got you. You won't fall."

"Oh. ...Thanks." Wolfram's head tipped against Yuuri's shoulder. Once again he didn't mind that much. It was very hard to maneuver Wolfram across the floor, which was as crowded as ever. He saw Wolfram's brothers together and looked away before he could register what the looks on their faces might be. He didn't want to know. He couldn't deal with them right now.

The stairs… "Oh, this is going to be _fun_." Yuuri glared at the winding staircase. "Wolfram, you're going to have to work with me."

"Alright." He reached out, fumblingly, for the rail. "Not too hard."

"I'm glad you think so." Yuuri had no choice but to press closer to Wolfram to get him up each step, practically carrying him. That was fine until he felt Wolfram's fingers playing in his hair. That froze Yuuri for a few seconds. He couldn't get mad or move away or Wolfram was likely to fall. He tried to steel himself. It wasn't that bad, after all. Kind of tickled. It was almost nice.

Yuuri swallowed nervously. He must somehow be drunk off the fumes.

Wolfram's room wasn't far from the stairs, at least. Wolfram smiled when it came in sight. "We're almost there."

"Are you staying?" Wolfram blinked owlishly. Yuuri noticed his mask had fallen a little askew. "It's lonely without you."

"I'd better get back to Greta," Yuuri said too quickly, trying to pick up the pace a little. That didn't work. He really was close to carrying Wolfram by now.

"Can I sleep in your room?" The first time he'd ever asked permission.

"Giesela won't like it if you move." That might or might not have been true. Considering Wolfram's finger had just run down the shell of the Maou's ear (which made him shiver oddly), he did _not_ want to face a night with a drunk Wolfram sleeping next to him. Yuuri opened the door.

Ah. A dilemma. Wolfram shouldn't sleep in those formal clothes. It wouldn't be at all comfortable, and they might be ruined. Yuuri wasn't sure, himself. But it was a good guess. He kicked the door closed. "Can you, um, undress?"

"Can you help?" Wolfram leaned more heavily on Yuuri and smiled.

Yuuri closed his eyes. Why? What had he done to deserve this? He'd been nicer than _this_ selfish brat had ever deserved all night. He swallowed and undid the clasp on Wolfram's shirt. He breathed a sigh of relief. There was a thin undershirt beneath. The rest of the clasps came away neatly and Yuuri pulled the shirt off, praying Wolfram wouldn't remember this and wondering if there was a spell to make him forget it, too.

At least Wolfram seemed capable of taking care of his own pants. He could probably have dealt with the swordbelt in his sleep, with that warrior's mentality. Yuuri did help with the boots, shined and slender with just a little heel. He'd thought Wolfram seemed taller than usual. He suspected these might be Lady Celi's hand-me-downs, too.

Wolfram suddenly went pale. With a grunt, he lurched toward the bathroom. Yuuri, unsurprised by this development from Mr. Seasick, helped him along, not wanting him to stress his legs. Or not make it to the bathroom. Fortunately, they did. Someone who threw up as often as Wolfram had to have built up a little control.

And that was just disgusting. _If this isn't love, I don't know what is_. Yuuri pretended very hard he hadn't had that thought as he held Wolfram's hair back.

Yuuri got some water into him after that, remembering having to do the same for Shori after one of his rare nights out with an actual rather than simulated girl.

"Thank you." Wolfram leaned against the sink as Yuuri slowly pulled off his mask. The Maou set that on a cabinet and led Wolfram slowly back out into his room. "Yuuri…" His arm slid lower, and suddenly they were both holding each other around the waist. Yuuri took the last step and practically shoved Wolfram into bed.

"Yuuri…" There was a hint of a whine to his voice. Wolfram hadn't really let go. His hand was still on Yuuri's lower back. "Don't go." He leaned up slowly, trying to push himself up. Managing to drag Yuuri down a bit by sheer weight. Yuuri panicked and couldn't pull back. Wolfram's lips were an inch from his.

And then his eyes abruptly closed and he fell back against the pillow. Yuuri whipped nervous sweat from his forehead and waited for his heart to stop racing. Scary. He sighed fondly. Wolfram was such a brat, but there were moments of sweetness. However creepy, that had been heartfelt. Yuuri pulled a blanket over him.

And then he left. Sweet or not, creepy won out, and Greta needed someone to sleep with, anyway. Yuuri fell into bed gratefully. His last thought before sleep was the soft smile on Wolfram's face when he asked Yuuri to stay.

It was a guilty, if restful, night.


	6. What Lies Beneath

Yuuri slept a little late, but Greta was still deeply asleep when he woke. The hall was almost empty when he stumbled out into it, exhausted and pretty much disgusted with humanity. And he had a distinct sense, from the sort of listless stillness that permeated the castle, that Wolfram hadn't been the only one who'd had much too much to drink.

He wasn't sure where he was going. Somehow, Yuuri wandered to his office and found Gunter inside. "Morning," Yuuri said pleasantly, glad to find someone else awake and functional.

"It's wonderful to see you, Your Majesty. Did you enjoy your evening?"

"Not very much." There was no reason to lie to Gunter.

"Too hectic for my tastes as well. I'm afraid Your Majesty has quite a bit of paperwork piled up." Gunter gestured apologetically at the vaulting stacks of paper.

"Well, let's get on with that, then." Yuuri took his seat and grabbed his pen. Tax documents, order forms, legal verdicts… He was starting to get used to it. And compared to the nightmare of formal socializing last night, these were the kingly duties Yuuri found he preferred. And if he just dug his heels in and plowed along, he could be done by lunchtime. He hoped. Then he could go check on Wolfram and see if Conrad would practice some baseball with him. Nice day. He couldn't help feeling he sort of deserved it after that mess.

"Admirable work ethic, Your Majesty. Gunter looked pleased.

Yuuri nodded and got to work, feeling a hand cramp threaten already. He let himself get into swing of the work, signing his name automatically. "Gunter, do you know much about the Bielefelds? I mean, the ones besides Wolfram."

"Not very much, Your Majesty. Their province is on the opposite side of Shin Makoku from the Von Christ holding. I do remember the controversy that sprung up when Wolfram was born. Debate over whether he should inherit the family title, as a prince, or whether his oldest brother should. Tradition was murky on the subject. The eventual compromise was that Wolfram had all the privileges of the eldest except inheritance, which is why he's Wolfram _Von_ Bielefeld, among other things." Gunter frowned. "They tend to keep a bit distant, but that isn't uncommon among aristocrats. Many great families prefer to tend to their holdings and avoid the pressures of Court."

"Oh." Yuuri frowned. Not much use.

"Mael Von Bielefeld and Maddox are considered to have been 'born lucky,' as well," Gunter added thoughtfully. "Twins are a good omen, and they were born within a minute of the other, Mael seconds before the end of the year, Maddox seconds after it began. They were both breeches but completely healthy and gave their mother no trouble. Wind from the south, a dragon seen flying above the house... Quite a conjunction of events. The whole kingdom was ringing about it for a long time."

That was actually very depressing. Especially for Wolfram. Yuuri nodded and went back to signing things with more interest. He wasn't sure he wanted to know more. The twins seemed like insurmountable foes for both the Maou and Wolfram. Yuuri knew he'd promised never to distrust, but this wasn't a matter of not trusting them. It was not liking them. He was entitled to that.

Yuuri was almost finished at noon, and very proud of himself. So was Gunter, but he ignored that. He was preparing to force his way through the last stack of papers when Conrad walked in, tossing a baseball from hand to hand.

"Any interest in some pitching practice?" he asked pleasantly. Yuuri didn't even bother to answer, rising from his chair and whipping around the desk.

"Yes, please." He grinned at Conrad and led the way out into the courtyard. His nerves needed this. Badly.

Conrad sent him an easy toss, so Yuuri returned him one. "I didn't see you at all last night." He could have used the moral support, in retrospect.

"There was a disturbance outside the walls that needed examining, so Josak and I took out a small patrol." There was a slight twinkle in his eye, and Yuuri guessed the disturbance was either a lie or produced by Josak himself.

"That was smart." Yuuri tried not to scowl.

"Apparently, very. Things have to be pretty bad for Wolfram to pull his little lush act."

"Well, that was mostly his brothers—Wait, he's done that before?" And here Yuuri had thought the evening's trials had pushed poor Wolfram to an awful extreme.

"Not often. It's what he does when the stress gets to be too much for him. Considering what he puts himself through, it's really admirable it doesn't happen a lot more." Conrad tried to throw a curve ball and nearly made it.

"Yeah, I guess his brothers really put him through a lot." Yuuri sighed and threw a very lousy pitch.

"They were more the last straw." Conrad shot Yuuri an odd look. "They bother him a lot, certainly. They do that to most people who know them. But have you ever seen a single challenge, even one like that, drive Wolfram to despair?"

Yuuri shook his head. "Oh, and he's been hurt for almost a week, now."

"That's sort of another straw, if not the last." Conrad tossed the ball from hand to hand for a few moments, getting his thoughts together. "Its Wolfram's own standards that do this to him."

"How do you mean?" Yuuri wasn't quite clear yet what "this" was, but he'd let Conrad lead and hope he could catch up.

"Wolfram is singularly gifted at magic. He inherited our mother's rather stunning looks and poise. All his life he's been surrounded by the gifted and powerful, all willing and ready to impart that knowledge and experience that made them great." Conrad sighed. Yuuri thought that was a very good picture of Wolfram, and couldn't begin to fathom the rather sad look on Conrad's face. "However, his natural personality, the expectations heaped on him, and the conclusions drawn as a result have turned what would be a blessing into a curse."

"I still don't really understand." Yuuri would never contest anything Conrad had said. Wolfram was an amazing person. No gainsaying that. He had a lot to worry about, maybe, but that didn't seem to be what Conrad meant.

"It's complicated." Conrad looked just the least bit impatient. Yuuri could only assume he was being dense. "Wolfram is a prodigy of almost unheard of proportions. He set fire to his own crib repeatedly."

"Really?"

"Yes, and it took three tries before he realized he wasn't fireproof. Gwendal and I both pulled him out of dozens of his own conflagrations when he was very young. But he'd mastered fire by the time he was walking. That isn't simply natural power, but control, which is as rare as the age he achieved it at."

"Wow." Yuuri smiled slightly. It was sort of a pleasure to watch Wolfram work. No other Mazoku handled power with such elegance and finesse. Well, Yuuri did, but he never really got to see himself do it. Or really remembered. "Well, then, shouldn't it be easy?"

"Very. That's exactly the problem. Wolfram uses the kind of magic instinctively that most have to work for a lifetime to achieve. And that's all he's ever known. So he expects everything else to come as easily and thinks there's something wrong with him that it doesn't. Rather than recognize his strength, he sees every other facet of his life as a weakness."

"Oh." Actually, that made sense. Yuuri understood now. He could empathize with underestimating yourself and low self esteem. He was an expert, after all, and only just coming to realize it.

Conrad went on. "What's worse, he believes people expect his expertise in every possible field. No one would think it odd if he'd opted to simply follow magical training closely. Playing to your strengths is fine, and even Evert Von Bielefeld was proud of Wolfram's skill. Even after severing ties."

"He's really that good?" Wolfram was fantastic, but Yuuri lacked a real eye for the art. Knowing as little as he did about the subtleties of magic power was like being tone deaf. He could tell when something looked very good or very bad, but the niceties escaped him.

"Well, for comparison, Gwendal is competent, but his magic is nothing special. It's the one thing Wolfram can indisputably claim over those brothers of his. Mael's grossly untalented and Maddox is, I understand, a bit of an embarrassment. Can't boil a pot of water. It's the one way the stars shone on Wolfram instead of them."

"You'd think he'd have noticed that."

"You would, but that branch of Wolfram's family had him trained to hero-worship. They couldn't do any wrong in his eyes until his father outright demanded control of the treasury from him. His eyes were opened then, but Wolfram will never stand up to any of them." Yuuri nodded silently. He'd seen that.

"He's really the only spectacular sorcerer in either side of the family. Gwendal's passable and mother can raise quite a wind when she's angry, but neither is anything spectacular. And of course mine is non-existent. So we focused on other areas where _we_ excel naturally. Mother's forte is of course her social maneuvering, and Gwendal and I both devoted ourselves to the mundane aspects of warfare, strategy and hand-to-hand combat. Wolfram felt he had to match us both in martial prowess as a matter of course, though he's not really very well suited to either swordwork or tactics on a large scale. He's been running himself ragged since he was five years old trying to catch up with us both."

"I always thought he was a good swordsman,"Yuuri countered. Sure, Wolfram had lost to him, but Yuuri realized Wolfram had been underestimating him and not quite known what to do about using a sword like a baseball bat. Being a totally untutored amateur had protected him.

"Not really. His fencing is impeccable. Shockingly so, considering his total lack of aptitude. But he doesn't think well on his feet, or at least he doesn't translate thought to sword or follow his instincts. In formal competition, he's even taken a few prizes, but I'd never want him left with nothing but a sword in a real battle." So, in other words, exactly what Yuuri had deduced himself. "And never ask him to command or even help plan. He is the worst chess player I've ever met. Impulsive and arrogant. But he still tries. He used to stay up all night pouring over treatises on battle dynamics."

Yuuri could see that. In fact, he was starting to see every piece of the puzzle come together. Wolfram really did push himself. Hard enough that Yuuri had believed him a naturally gifted swordsman, even. Of course he was under a lot of pressure.

"He's just as bad about emulating Mother." Conrad scowled. "If he'd just pushed himself to martial mastery he'd probably be okay. But he also tried to force himself to mastery in art and etiquette. Wolfram is... no natural socialite. Bad temper, impatient, can't suffer fools, hates being flirted with, and has a real issue with crowds. When he was younger I had to take him out of mother's parties all the time. Inheriting Mother's looks was a misfortune, because it keeps him the center of attention and means people actually do expect him to be socially graceful. People assume that about the attractive, I've noticed. Nothing makes him more uncomfortable than chatting with uninteresting strangers, but he makes himself, and is always perfectly turned out in dress and form. Honestly, its unnerving. There's a dead look in his eye whenever he has to subvert himself for show." Conrad actually looked angry. "The art is even worse. We all know how miserable he is with a paintbrush, but he's been practicing for years. He's made himself a competent musician, actually, but that cost even more sleepless hours."

That was too much for one person. Yuuri was beginning to be alarmed. "Does he ever sleep?"

"Gwendal and I started drugging him a few years ago. His health was failing. He's gotten better since he's had the fun of sneaking into your room, actually." Oh, wonderful, one more thing to be guilty about. "It doesn't even end there. It wasn't just military theory he studied, but economic and political, alongside history and mathematics. He strove for his father's financial brilliance and political acumen. And all his life, Mael and Maddox have been overshadowing him with mostly sheer force of personality. As Mother proves, charisma can take the place of just about anything else, and it seems true they were born lucky." Conrad paused to sigh. "He sincerely believes he has to be perfect at everything or he becomes a failure. And he's been pushing himself even harder since impressing you became important. Nights he isn't trying to slip into your room are spent toiling over one project or another, and... well, he learned not to take tea from me, Gwendal, or Anissina a while ago. Anyone would collapse under the strain."

Yuuri bit his lip, looking away. Everything Conrad said rang true, but Yuuri had trouble believing it. It seemed Wolfram had practically killed himself to become a person Yuuri doubted he'd have liked. It was Wolfram's temper Yuuri found most endearing. His total incompetence as an artist was sweet, but where Yuuri had once found his perseverance sort of amusing, it now seemed practically pathological. A moment of weakness under the stress? Yuuri was surprised Wolfram wasn't a half-mad alcoholic after all that.

"Excuse me. I should go see how he's doing." Yuuri missed Conrad's approving smile as he ran past.

Conrad turned to call after him. "Walk softly, Yuuri. Wolfram never could hold his alcohol!"

Yuuri ran all the way to Wolfram's room, but once there he took Conrad's advice to heart. And he was sort of shy. He wouldn't look at Wolfram the same knowing what he'd been through. The Selfish Brat was really more of a heroic victim. Instead of knocking, Yuuri cracked the door to peek inside. Wolfram was lying still and alone. Yuuri let himself in. "Um, do you feel okay?"

When he spoke, Wolfram winced. Yuuri noticed a wet rag on his forehead. But the blonde still forced himself to nod.

"I'll let you rest if you want," Yuuri whispered, tiptoeing closer. He supposed he was attending a sickbed at the moment.

"No." Wolfram closed his eyes and pushed himself up, grimacing horribly as he did. Though on Wolfram, even that looked pretty, if pitiful. "I don't have the clearest memories of last night, but I apologize for any inappropriate conduct."

"Oh, um, there was none." Yuuri paused to mull for a moment. "I mean, not really anything to worry about. You were a little clingy, but otherwise you probably should have fallen down the stairs. And it wasn't that different from usual."

Wolfram looked away and groaned as the movement rattled his tender head. "It was inexcusable. Any punishment you see fit to dole out—" 

"Whoa! Wolfram, punishment? What would I punish you for? You were a little drunk. It was kind of, um..." There was no right word. Yuuri sighed. Now that he had Conrad's words to think on, this was pretty much what he should expect.

"It was a humiliation for us both. It certainly didn't do you any good in the eyes of my brothers and probably left my own reputation in tatters." He still wouldn't look at Yuuri. "You should probably break our engagement."

"Wolfram, stop being so melodramatic!" Yuuri sat on the bed and leaned so he was in Wolfram's line of sight. He couldn't help thinking this was the perfect opportunity to get out of this damned, unwanted entanglement. But to do so would be downright evil, Yuuri knew, once he saw the abject misery in Wolfram's eyes. "You... don't have to be perfect for me, Wolfram. You just have to be, well, you."

Yuuri thought it would have been a nicer sentiment if he hadn't stammered his way through it. But he wasn't very good at saying the right thing. And, like all the times he'd had his arm around Wolfram lately, that could be taken the wrong way. Sort of the wrong way. Yuuri didn't know anymore.

But whatever it's flaws, the hesitant reassurance seemed to have worked. Wolfram stared at Yuuri for a long moment, then nodded very slowly. He reached out and shyly covered the Maou's fingers with his own, just for a moment, before he pulled back.

"Well, if you're content to let our reputation slide, that's your affair. Just keep in mind how it reflects on Shin Makoku." Wolfram lay back down, his hair spreading over the pillow in a halo.

"That's right. I am." Coughing uncomfortably, Yuuri stood. "I'd better go finish up my paperwork before Gunter gets mad."

"Alright. I should be functioning by tonight. Bring Greta and whatever she's reading now."

"I will."

Yuuri slipped out of the room. He should head back. There was that little pile of work left to be done. If he got it all out of the way, he'd be free to, well, he didn't know what he'd be free to do. But he needed to go think about what that might be. Yuuri apologized mentally to Gunter and headed outside. He walked to the flowerbed, where the picnic had been.

Beautiful Wolfram. It really was a striking flower. The color was brilliant, a bright, reflective yellow with a silvery undertone, exactly like sunlight and like Wolfram's hair. The slender, shapely petals were in a rather peculiar formation. When Yuuri looked closely, he found they formed a little star on the inside, a blotch of bright green at the base of each petal. About the shade of Wolfram's eyes. A perfect match and echoes of the sun and stars. Lady Celi had named it well.

Yuuri was confused and a little frightened of what he was beginning to feel. He'd taken Wolfram's constant presence for granted for so long. And then his long absence had changed that. Yuuri had been back and serving in Shin Makoku for months now. He was slow on the uptake, but something inside had definitely shifted with regard to Wolfram.

It was in those smiles that the indisputable proof lay. Other things could be explained away. Yuuri took care of his friends the best he could. He was sure that, had Gwendal, Murata, Josak... Anyone ended up drunk, Yuuri would have been happy to drag him up the stairs. And the increased awareness that Wolfram was a beautiful specimen? Well, he was. Yuuri had always known Wolfram was shockingly pretty. But there was a warm, slightly shaky feeling he got whenever he saw Wolfram smile. And that couldn't be ignored.

And he liked that feeling. It unnerved him, but he always felt better when he had it.

Dancing with Wolfram had been surprisingly pleasant once he relaxed. And when he thought about it, Yuuri could suddenly feel Wolfram's lean body flush with his, an arm around his waist, the occasional strand of flyaway blond hair on his face. The sudden stream of sensation was as vivid as the flowers before him, and he liked that, too.

Wolfram was more than a friend. He meant more to Yuuri than a friend, though Yuuri didn't think that _quantifying___such things was a good idea. Could he say he cared _more_ about Wolfram than, say, Conrad? Not exactly. But it was a very different feeling. The same went for the undeniable care for his family. And his feelings for Greta. He cared about Conrad because of trust, respect, and a certain sense that they were kindred spirits. He loved his family unconditionally. He loved Greta because she needed him.

And he didn't know why he was so entranced by Wolfram. By all accounts it didn't make sense. Whatever his excuse to be that way, Wolfram was an arrogant brat, selfish, judgmental, and egomaniacal. He was brittle emotionally and physically, and not given to caring at all about others.

But when he smiled, Yuuri's breath caught, and his pain tore the Maou's heart out. He'd figure it out later. He'd apparently have a lifetime to do it, because he wasn't going to struggle against this marriage anymore. But that didn't solve anything. Yuuri's nurturing instinct was taking over, now that he'd admitted it pertained, somehow, to Wolfram.

Wolfram was still hurt because of Yuuri. And he was hurting himself, according to Conrad. He needed to be taken care of, cherished, and reassured. Those were things Yuuri tended to be pretty good at, but usually by accident. It was hard to figure out how to do something special when most of the time it seemed he just had to be nice to melt the hearts of thousands. Diplomacy was very easy compared to friendship. Or whatever this thing with Wolfram was.

And, Yuuri remembered, it was going to be his birthday very soon. Even knowing how Wolfram felt on that subject, Yuuri couldn't forget it. It only seemed fair to get some recognition.

So the Maou did what any man in a bind would do. He went to ask his mother for advice. He ran back to the castle and found Conrad. "I need to go to Earth. Just for a little while."

"Any special reason?" Conrad had on his "it's your business but you're making me curious" face.

"Yes. Anyway, I'll hurry. And I'll go alone. I just thought someone should know." Someone who wasn't Gunter. Yuuri was flustered enough.

He barely waited for Conrad's nod before running to the baths and stepping in. Murata had been teaching Yuuri to control his passage better. In time, he was hoping to reverse the time incongruities, or at least restructure them a little. He wanted to be able to come back to Shin Makoku the moment he left. Especially as he had almost no time left until that birthday.

Yuuri blinked at the sudden sunlight. His mother had taken to leaving the kiddie pool out in the yard with just a few inches of water. Much more comfortable. The sun was very low, which could mean he'd been back in Shin Makoku a few hours or a few days. He'd have to start worrying about that once school started back up.

He let himself in the house. His mother was in the kitchen, humming off-key to a Spiral Spiders CD. He didn't' hear anyone else. "Mom?"

"Call me Mama, Yu-chan! Did you have a nice time being the demon king?"

"Um, yes." He ducked into the kitchen. She was chopping away at a pile of leeks. "Curry?"

"Of course! Mama's curry is always waiting for you at home. And this time I'll put some in a container for you to bring back to your friends. Maybe you can give the recipe to someone. I'm sure they have good cooks, since you live in a castle and all. I've been meaning to ask. When can I visit? Sho-chan got to, and it's not fair that Mama doesn't get to go see her little Yu-chan's castle."

"Um, I'll arrange something." Without telling Celi. "Mo-Mama, do we still have that fancy camera from when Dad had his mid-life crisis and wanted to run off to Borneo to photograph leopards?"

"Hmm. You know, I never figured out if they have leopards in Borneo. Yes, it's gathering dust on the top shelf in the hall closet. There's a few rolls of film, too." She giggled. "I don't know why we don't use it. I guess all those little buttons and lenses are more trouble than it's worth, when we can just get a disposable camera from the convenience store. I took all your pictures with those little cameras."

"Um, oh." Yuuri shook his head. His mother's chattering tirades always took a little getting used to when he came back after weeks in Shin Makoku. "Do you mind if I take it back with me?"

"Oh, are you going to take pictures! Pictures of another world! How wonderful! Oh, I should get an album ready for you to fill!"

"Alright." He could take a roll of photos for her. Or Wolfram could. Yuuri just hoped he wasn't giving Wolfram another reason to stay up all night trying to hone skill he had no need or real desire for. It would just be an easier way to take out his artistic impulses. And Wolfram would be the only photographer in Shin Makoku.

Yuuri went to fetch the camera and found, handily, that it had a waterproof bag with pockets for film. Nice. That, he thought, would be a perfectly good birthday present. But that wasn't all he'd come for. There were times when only a mother's advice, even a lunatic mother's, would do.

He walked back into the kitchen and sat down. "It smells good."

"Thank you! It's nice to be appreciated sometimes, you know." She posed with her clever and a half-chopped carrot for a moment, caught in a blindingly brilliant sunbeam for effect.

"Where're Dad and Shori?"

"Your Papa's at a security meeting at work, and Sho-chan is waiting in line for the newest dating sim. You know, I check sometimes, and he always loses at those. I wonder why he's so wild about them?"

"Because he's too stiff and overprotective for any real girl to go out with him and too stubborn to give up after virtual girls reject him, too?" It was Yuuri's best theory. "Anyway, um, there's something I wanted to ask you."

Miko looked delighted, setting her vegetables down and sitting across the table from Yuuri, chin in hands. "Well, my sweet Yu-chan isn't too big to ask his Mama for help, even if he is Maou of a whole kingdom. What is it?"

"Um..." How to phrase this? "What's a good gift to show someone how much they mean to you?"

"Hmm, that would depend entirely on who that someone is." She looked contemplative. "Who's it for? Mama? Sho-chan? Oh, maybe Conrad? Or that adorable lover of yours? Does Wol-chan get a special present from Yu-chan? Oh, is it already White Day in Shin Makoku? Chocolate always works, Yuuri."

"Um, no, nothing like that." Though that did leave him wondering if presents should be given to a male fiancé on Valentine's or White Day. But mostly he was flustered by his mother's use of the word "lover." He'd gotten used to being Wolfram's fiancé, but lover was an entirely different story.

He wondered if he should lie, but he wouldn't get good advice that way. She'd giggle for hours if he admitted the gift really was for Wolfram, but at least he'd know the best she could tell him. And since she already had Wolfram's testimony, he wouldn't be admitting to much she didn't already think she knew.

"But it is for him. It's, um, a birthday present."

"Oh, I see. Well, there's no reason that shouldn't be special, too." She smiled dreamily. "My pretty Yu-chan, all grown up and in love and getting married. You really should bring Wolfram back again to pick out wedding things. Do you want a western ceremony, or something more traditional? Hmm..."

"Um, I think Shin Makoku probably has its own traditions," Yuuri said quickly, not up to arguing about the suggested _wedding_.

"Oh, those must be fascinating! I can't wait. But right. You asked. Well, let me show you the most wonderful present your Papa ever got me." She stood and disappeared into the next room. Yuuri heard her scurry up the stairs and then things crashing to the floor. She wasn't very organized. Yuuri was a little worried at the possible damage by the time she returned, carrying a small purple box.

"This was our engagement ring!" She flipped it open. The inside was satin, and the ring that sat within was simple, but very pretty. Yuuri was surprised he hadn't seen it before. It was silver, set with a rather striking stone. It was brown, but with shifting light shimmered with colors Yuuri couldn't possibly have seen in it. "We didn't have much money then, so it's only silver. And I couldn't go with Papa to pick it out, because he was traveling so much on business then. Since money was tight leading up to getting married I sort of figured we just wouldn't have one, and I didn't mind too much. But one day he came home from a trip to somewhere in Russia with this. The stone is called Alexandrite. He said it made him think of my eyes." She closed them for a moment, obviously lost in memory. "It was so sweet."

Yuuri was a little repelled by the engagement ring idea. Being Wolfram's fiancé still didn't exactly sit well with him. It was strange to think of an actual marriage rather than just the ongoing argument that had been between them so long. Though he'd never seen any sign of such tradition in Shin Makoku, and Wolfram probably wouldn't get it. But somehow, Wolfram not understanding the significance felt worse than the heaviness of presenting him with an engagement ring.

And he'd be pretty late. He didn't know just how long it had been in Shin Makoku, but it had been many months at least since his accidental proposal.

"Oh, but you haven't seen the best part, Yu-chan! Look here!" She lifted the ring from its velvet seat. "Look close. It's worn down a little, because silver is pretty soft. That's why I don't wear it very often."

Yuuri looked obediently. The band was inscribed. He had to tilt the ring into the light, but it was legible. "To Miko. From Shoma. With Love."

"Isn't it a wonderful way to put it? Perfectly simple and direct, just like your Papa. He proposed to me on our fifth date, you know. He was always completely up front with me, even about things that most people have trouble with. So matter of fact. It's so cute!" She was practically cooing.

"Um, thanks." Yuuri replaced the ring. Did he… dare?

"So, that's what I recommend. There's nothing so refreshing as a lover who will be honest and simple about love. It's better than flowery words and promises. It's just there. I love you. It sounds like I'm in some series from Shoujo Beat, but it's true, Yu-chan. There aren't any words more powerful than that." She sighed happily, closing her eyes and grinning.

"Thank you, Mama," Yuuri said quietly. Now he knew what he was going to do. What he owed Wolfram and what he wanted himself, too. "I better head back. I've got a lot to do and just a day to do it in."

"Okay! Good luck, Yuuri! Next time you visit, bring Wol-chan!"

Yuuri waved and smiled as he hopped back into the pool. At least he was less confused, if a lot more scared.


	7. Hard to Shop For

Yuuri hopped out of the bath, soaked but content. He noticed a plastic container floating beside him and picked it up with a smile. Curry. She must have tossed it in behind her.

Yuuri shook his head. He had to find out how long he'd been gone. And he had to ask fast. He was short on time even in the best-case scenario. He hurried into the hall, snatching a towel on the way to soak up some of the water in his hair. It didn't work that well. Conrad was waiting outside.

"How long was I gone?"

"About half an hour, actually. I wasn't even aware you'd left yet. You must be improving at this, Your Majesty."

"Don't call me that, okay, Conrad? Even Wolfram calls me Yuuri, and if anyone in this castle has more privileges than him, it's you." The Maou sighed, tossing the towel over his shoulder back into the bathroom. He was usually careful to clean up after himself, unable to adjust to having maids to do it for him. But now he didn't have time. There was only one person he could turn to, who could make his plan work even with nothing but an afternoon to really work in. "Do you know where Lady Celi is?"

Conrad actually looked slightly ruffled. It seemed to him a very, very odd request from anyone. "In her quarters, I believe."

"Um, where's her room?" He'd never had occasion to find her before. Usually, Celi found _him_. When least desirable. Conrad gave him directions, still looking dubious.

Conrad gave him reluctant directions. That seemed rather closely akin to venturing into the lion's den even to the Lady's precious son, and he couldn't think of an explanation that didn't unnerve him.

Yuuri hadn't even been to the part of the castle where she lived. Sometimes he forgot he lived in such an immense building. Lady Celi's suite was on the top floor of Covenant Castle, a room so luxurious it rather took Yuuri's breath away. This had, originally, been the Maou's room, but it was so inconvenient it had fallen out of use as such and now traditionally housed whoever was important but unlikely to be needed in an emergency. The castle was full of such traditions of convenience, or perhaps its inhabitants were just prone to calling everything a tradition.

He knocked hesitantly. Lady Celi's reaction to Yuuri's plan was sure to be frightening. But she was the least of all possible evils. He'd considered Anissina, but feared the price she might extract, methods she might suggest, and just generally being in her power. Yuuri had even thought about enlisting Gwendal. That would get rid of teasing and squeaking, and if he artfully appealed to Gwendal's latent softer side, he might even get enthusiastic help. But the thought of the look on Gwendal's face when Yuuri first voiced his idea was more terrifying than even Anissina could be.

The door flew open before Yuuri could knock twice. It was like she'd somehow been waiting for him. "Why, Your Majesty, what brings you to my humble apartments this afternoon?"

"I need your advice." More than that. He'd be polite, flattering, and gradual, and hopefully not get hugged and stuffed into the former Maou's cleavage. That plan failed as Lady Celi exclaimed her delight at being of service. "Well, there's... a field you know much better than me."

"Oh, and what could that be?"

"Jewelry." Yuuri blushed, but he was rather pleased that he had, just for a moment, actually been able to silence Lady Celi. That was something he'd tell his grandchildren about. Or at least he'd go find Greta and maybe baby Elle. "I need a gift for Wolfram."

She somehow squeaked for about half a minute on end. Yuuri hadn't known a person could do that. Where was the air coming from? "Oh, what a beautiful sentiment, Your Majesty! I'm even more jealous now. My darling Wolfram couldn't have asked to capture a nobler, more beautiful heart!"

"It's just a birthday present," Yuuri grumbled bashfully. He'd rather not discuss Wolfram and his heart. Even now, with his resolve as strong as he could make it in such matters and the fiancé himself nowhere in sight, Yuuri was confused and anxious.

He couldn't deny what Wolfram did to him anymore. Things like admiration and sympathy were easy to understand. Those rushes of electric fire that issued from the depths of Yuuri's body to shoot through him like lightening when Wolfram smiled? Less easy. What did all those feelings mean? Did they add up to what he suspected? He was shy, loath to surrender himself so to the power of one person. But he found that prospect wasn't nearly as bad as he'd have thought.

"Nonsense. It's an offering from the heart, I'm sure. What did you have in mind?" She stepped into the room, grabbing Yuuri's collar as an afterthought and dragging him along, too. Lady Celi was amazingly strong. She pulled out a jewelry box the size of a suitcase, hands shaking slightly under the weight. "Is any one of these an inspiration?"

"I know what I want to get." Yuuri glanced over the box. It was shinier than a Cavalcade greeting, and he couldn't look straight at it. "A gold ring with a green stone."

"How lovely! What a wise choice, Your Majesty." She Set the box back on the sumptuous vanity, shoving a half-dozen combs onto the floor with its bulk. "Well, the love of the Maou demands only the finest expression. I'll take you to the best jeweler in Shin Makoku!" She threw her fist into the air resolutely.

"I sort of wanted it by tomorrow," Yuuri said awkwardly, wondering if that was just unreasonable.

"Now, Your Majesty, if you were the best jeweler in Shin Makoku, wouldn't you make sure you were convenient to the palace?" Celi grabbed Yuuri again and shoved him through the door. "I'll be downstairs in just a moment. Have horses saddled for us."

The door slammed and Yuuri hurried down. He had Ao and a delicate white mare named Alabaster saddled. She was apparently Lady Celi's favorite horse. She tried to bite Yuuri three times before her mistress got downstairs, adorned in a brilliant red tunic, more silver bangles than looked save to wear on a ship, and tight black hose. And, Yuuri noticed, the boots Wolfram had worn to the party. He wondered whose they actually were.

"Come, Your Majesty, we must away!" Lady Celi bounded lithely onto Alabaster and the mare reared, silhouetting them both against the brilliant afternoon sun before bursting into a gallop. Yuuri followed with difficulty. He was still no master horseman, and when not driven by panic, found a gallop very hard to sit.

Fortunately, it didn't last very long. Ao and Yuuri were both worn to the bone (for Yuuri, mostly his tailbone) when Ladies Celi and Alabaster stopped. For Alabaster had roughly the same status among Covenant Castle's horses as her mistress. That of Unholy Terror.

They had come to the nearest town. Yuuri had been here many times, though he didn't particularly remember this street. It struck him as rather feminine. The store windows were full of clothes, shoes, and fancy bottles full of sticky perfumed stuff.

The storefront Lady Celi firmly steered him toward put Yuuri in mind of her jewelry box. He stared and then was sorry for it. Staring at heaps of precious gems and metals as they reflected the sun stung his eyes worse than a strong onion. "Wow. If that's in the window, what must be inside?" he asked as he wiped away tears on his sleeve.

"Your Majesty, that's all nickel and colored glass." Lady Celi giggled. "Who would be silly enough to put priceless jewels where a passing smash-and-grab could snatch them all away?"

Oh. Sometimes Yuuri was too trusting even for his own taste. He liked being merciful, but sometimes he got the impression he was just tragically naïve.

Inside the store, he had to blink a lot before the dazzle of the sun on the window display wore off. Then he proceeded to be just as dazzled. The inside of the store was dimmer, so as not to blind customers, but every inch gleamed. Inside glass boxes, the same as at any Earth store he'd ever seen jewelry sold at, glimmered thousands of gems.

Right beside him was a row of bracelets, solid platinum wrapped in rose gold thread and set with moonstones. Beside those were bracelets of silver filigree, and after that some carved from solid jade, festooned with hundreds of tiny flecks of gold. There was a rack of earrings on his left, hoops, studs, and elaborate, dangling shapes, every metal and every shade of stone Yuuri could have imagined. And many he couldn't have imagined. Yuuri didn't devote a lot of his imagination to jewelry.

He was snapped from his reverie by Lady Celi's voice. "Oh Jaurah!"

A small man seemed to materialize from nowhere. Yuuri had simply missed him because of being blinded by the glow of gems, but the effect was intended. He was very short, even smaller than the Maou, with mahogany skin and sharp, vulpine-looking hazel eyes. His hair and beard were close-cropped and white as snow. His clothes were plain and practical. He was distinguished but innocuous looking, clearly a respectable man but with no intention of ever showing up his beautiful works of art in flashiness.

"My Lady, it has been too long." He clasped Celi's extended hand in long, clever fingers and kissed it gently. "What are you looking for today? I've just had several flawless amethysts come in today, if you'd like to look them over. Purple is lovely with your complexion."

"Oh, you're tempting, you wicked old lout, but I'm not your customer today." She smiled sadly. "The Maou is looking for a gift for his fiancé. I simply had to bring him to the best in the kingdom."

"Oh, Lady Celi, the best in the world, surely?" He smiled and turned to Yuuri. "Your Majesty, it is an honor to meet you. I am Jaurah Augustine, and the beauties of this shop my life's work."

"I'm glad to meet you. And it's all very wonderful." He'd never felt plainer or more awkward when not in Wolfram's immediate presence. Between the breathtaking Celi, the poised Jaurah, and the shining gems around him, Yuuri was suddenly even aware that the buttons on his clothes were dull.

"You're very gracious. And what do you have in mind for this lucky fiancé to receive?" With a grandiose gesture, he indicated the entire store.

"I'm looking for a ring with a green stone and a gold band." He swallowed a few words. That was one thing to plan, even to announce to Lady Celi. The words felt so heavy and awkward among these living, radiant works of art. He was completely ignorant in one more way.

"Ah. Right this way." Jaurah led Yuuri to the longest counter in the store, which was all full of rings. They were grouped by the color of the stone, logically enough. Yuuri stared thoughtfully at the green ones. They were in all colors and hues. There were bright and dark greens, some so bright they were luminous, some muted and deep. There was no permutation of green not represented among the gems.

There was one that had the perfect color, but Yuuri didn't immediately chose it. Another had a flash to it, the brilliance of a spurting green flame that matched the surges of Wolfram's hot temper and forceful passion. Another had the deep, liquid quality of Wolfram's eyes in those rare moments of contentment. One stone with a golden tinge even put him in mind of the warm, peaceful eyes that came with Wolfram's gentlest smiles, those reserved for Greta and Yuuri. There was an erratically shimmering gem that even put Yuuri in mind of those very rare tears.

But not one of them was really Wolfram. The Alexandrite had been, in repose, a very poor match for Miko's eyes. Yuuri felt his father had reached deeper than that. Eyes were window to the soul. The warm, rich color of the gem and its shifting, unpredictable hues were a perfect representation of Shibuya Miko. It echoed her eyes, but that wasn't the real point as Yuuri saw it.

But maybe he was looking for something that couldn't exist. At least not for Wolfram. Maybe his fiancé couldn't be captured in what was, Yuuri reminded himself, a cold stone when all was said and done. Maybe his soul was too much. Even his eyes were hard. Yuuri was about to indicate a slightly blue-tinged tourmaline when his eye caught the ring beside it.

From where he'd been standing, that gem had looked dull, a translucent, dull green that looked strange beside the more brilliant ones. But when he looked closer, Yuuri was inexorably drawn to the depths of the stone. It was entirely the wrong green, but that didn't matter.

It wasn't even green, or not green more than any other color. It was also blue and purple and everything in between, with a silvery hue throughout and a deep, strong gray the shade of a storm cloud easing one color to the next. It danced almost independent of the light, the colors leaping and sliding through the stone in a way that Yuuri couldn't help feeling must be magical. It was a dance that echoed fire and ice at the same time, cool silver containing the fiercely contending colors within. He'd never seen anything like it. Except in a certain Little Lord Brat, at once fierce and gentle, conniving and sweet. This was Wolfram's stone.

"This is what I want," he said quietly, still almost awed at the perfection he'd found. Amazing that he could let himself be so worked up about a symbol of what he feared to admit he cared for at all. But Yuuri seldom really made sense.

"Ah, what exquisite taste." Juarah smiled, and for a moment, Yuuri saw the pure pleasure of an artist whose work was appreciated, not the rather unctuous merchant's satisfaction at selling prized wares. "It is a rare eye and a rare heart that can appreciate the true beauty of Mystic Fire."

"Mystic Fire? That's really what it's called?" He felt like Gunter, but Yuuri couldn't believe that wasn't an omen. Mystic Fire for the sorcerer of the flame.

"Indeed. A most prized gem, found almost nowhere, created through mysterious processes unknown to human or Mazoku. It is said to have strange and wonderful power, conferring the strength of its mysterious forging on the bearer." Juarah coughed, apparently feeling a little too melodramatic. "We have only a small collection. While Mystic Fire is my personal favorite, those who can grasp its wonder are few indeed. I must say, your fiancé is fortunate."

Yuuri coughed self consciously while Lady Celi giggled over the brooches she was examining and Juarah extracted a box of rings from a cabinet under the display cases. Yuuri chose a ring made of the brightest yellow gold with a wide, graceful band. The Mystic Fire was a marquise cut in a six-prong setting. Delicate and strong at once. Yes, it suited Wolfram and his Mystic Fire.

"I'd like it engraved." Yuuri extracted a scrap of paper and a pencil from his pocket. In his most careful calligraphy he wrote his message once in Japanese. Below it, just being careful to make it clear what he was saying, he rewrote it in the script of Shin Makoku. "Um, the writing from my language should be on the outside of the band, and the ordinary part should go on the inside." He didn't exactly want everyone being able to read what he meant. This way it would really be just between him and Wolfram. And Lady Celi, who had read over his shoulder and was laughing delightedly. And, he supposed, Jaurah Augustine, but a jeweler must see far sillier inscriptions than that.

"It will take several hours to complete that, Your Majesty. I will have the ring shipped to the palace."

"Thank you!" Yuuri smiled politely. "Oh, but could you deliver it to Lady Celi? If he'd up and about, Wolfram's sure to go through any mysterious package addressed to me."

"A fiancé who's that much trouble is always worth it, Your Majesty." He smiled. "Do come back some day when my wife is here."

Yuuri promised to and left with a smile, clambering onto Ao's back with a smile. He wasn't sure he liked this idea now, but he wasn't letting himself back out. Just once, he was not going to be a wimp. Once!

They made the ride back at a much slower pace. Yuuri was very glad for it. He wondered whether there was a reason not to put a cushion on Ao's saddle. He climbed off happily as they rode into Covenant Castle courtyard. For better or worse, that was over with. The setting sun warmed his face and, for a fleeting moment, Yuuri was sure of himself.

"Yuuri!" He felt himself tackled at the waist and grinned.

"Hello, Greta."

"Yuuri, where were you? I was looking. Gunter wants you to write your name on a bunch of things." She smiled. "I was going to warn you to get away, but I guess you did already."

Yuuri kneeled down and hugged her briefly. "Good girl. Is that the thanks I get for letting Gunter hide from Anissina in my room?" He leaned in with a conspiratorial smile. "I was actually out getting a very secret birthday present for Wolfram." He put his hand in front of her mouth to muffle the happy squeak. "It's a secret, _secret_ surprise. You can't breathe a word of it to him."

Greta nodded happily. "But will that be from you? I don't have anything to give him."

"Well, I'm sure he'd be happy to get a gift from you. Tell you what. The other thing I got for him will be your present." Yuuri stood and put his hand on Greta's shoulder. "Let's go get that. And your book. We'll go keep Wolfram company all tonight. Or until you two fall asleep." _And have a snoring and kicking Yuuri contest_. He almost missed the nightly competition. The winner was always unpredictable.

Yuuri led Greta upstairs while Lady Celi giggled conspiratorily and put the horses away. It was her good deed for the week.

Greta couldn't quite grasp how a camera worked even after half an hour's explanation. Yuuri finally just told her it was magic and offered to explain it to Wolfram himself. With that in hand, as well as _The Legend of Lady Anissina_ and a warning to tiptoe in case Wolfram was still feeling the effects of his indulgence, Yuuri and Greta headed off to Wolfram's room.

"Wolfram? Are you among the living?" Yuuri cracked the door slowly. There was a distinct "hmph!" and no ensuing wince of pain, which Yuuri took as a good sign. He let himself in, ushering Greta ahead. "How're you feeling?"

"Giesela has decided to put me under patient probation. As if there was such a thing. Even if I was slightly inebriated last night, I didn't do anything to set back my own medical situation permanently. The presmption!" Wolfram growled.

"Um, what does patient probation entail?"

"The same thing as any probation, Your Majety." Giesela appeared in the doorway and bowed. "Any misbehavior will result in severe punishment, but if he's a good little patient, there will be nothing to worry about." She grinned cheerfully. "You need your bandages replaced, I'm afraid."

"Yuuri, make this woman leave me alone!"

"Sorry, Wolfram, but you're under royal command to stay in bed and recover. You can do that best if you follow the doctor's orders." Yuuri smiled a little awkwardly at the poisonous glare Wolfram sent at him. He suddenly turned around when he realized the extent of Wolfram's injuries were such that he'd have to be almost completely undressed to have the bandages all changed. Yuuri pulled Greta with him.

"You've been losing weight, Wolfram. If I catch you not finishing your meals, the consequences will be dire." Cheerfully, Yuuri heard her scuffling around, unrolling gauze and giggling softly at Wolfram's grumbling. "The good news is it looks like that arm, at least, is all better. All you did was twist it in a few places, so that's to be expected, but you'll be able to use it freely. Legs are still bad, though, and I'm still a bit bothered by the knife injury. And watch your head. You were lucky you didn't crack your skull, and that bone bruise is nothing to dismiss when it's on the crown of your head."

Shortly, the scuffling stopped and Yuuri dared to look over again. Just a little bit too early. Wolfram was still buttoning his shirt, and there was nothing under it this time. The bandages only covered the space over his heart.

Yuuri wondered why he cared. They'd had baths together more than once! But somehow, whatever had changed in Yuuri also changed the sight of any more of Wolfram's skin than was normally exposed.

He pretended not to care and almost convinced himself. Was this how Wolfram had felt every time Yuuri had shamelessly stripped in front of him?

The Maou resolved never to think of that again.

"Well, alright, _now_ how are you feeling?" Yuuri asked after Giesela left and Greta had hopped onto the bed to be cuddled.

"Better, but if you ever tell that _woman_ I'll make you suffer." Wolfram seemed more cheerful. Giesela had fed a lot of power into him while fussing with the bandages, and he was feeling as good as he possibly could under the circumstances.

"Yes. So, anyway—"

"Wolfram, I got you a birthday present! Well, Yuuri got it, but it's from me." Greta grinned and held out her hands, so Yuuri pressed the bag into her grasp. Wolfram's mouth twitched oddly, but he managed to hold a smile.

"Well, thank you, Greta. You really didn't have to. He looked rather pained as he examined the bag. Then he started to look more excited as he realized it must be from Earth. "Yuuri, how do I open it?"

Sometimes, Yuuri had the opportunity to feel really smart. Then he realized he felt smart because he could open a zipper, and in the end just felt more pathetic than ever. He Opened the camera bag and began the long, laborious process of explaining the whole process.

He'd thought Greta's trouble was based on her age, but in a world without even the earliest forms of this technology, everything really was magic to Wolfram. Yuuri eventually just had to explain everything that way.

Wolfram's moods were fun to watch. The thrill at getting a present from Earth—from Greta— was apparent at first, slipping away into total confusion as Yuuri tried to explain the function of a camera. He demonstrated the best he could, shooting pictures of both Greta and Wolfram, showing what all the buttons meant, and so forth. He was glad this was such a fancy camera. Most of its functions were automatic. Yuuri wasn't exactly an experienced photographer himself, though Mr. Shori of the school newspaper had taught him the basic when he was young.

And so Wolfram's incomprehension became disbelief and then wonder. He wanted to run out immediately and start taking photos. Yuuri dissuaded him on the basis that it was dark, the flash was limited, and he was still on probation. No one should be defying their probation, after all. Yuuri had to promise to spend the day taking pictures with Wolfram before he'd be dissuaded, which Yuuri didn't mind at all. It sounded like a good way to spend one's eighty-third birthday.

He felt so weird when he thought about how much older everyone was here than he was. There was the ceremony at sixteen that Conrad had already explained would slow his aging to match a Mazoku lifespan, but there was still considerable difference. Was Wolfram going to be an old man and Yuuri still young and blushing? He hoped it wasn't that great a difference. And then he wondered why he was thinking of such a long future together.

That was creepy. He knew he found that creepy. So why wasn't he creeped out at the moment?

Wolfram finally calmed down about the camera well after dark. He insisted on lighting the lamp to read by rather than have Yuuri walk across the room to light a match, and the Maou was pleased to note Wolfram didn't look at all weakened by using his magic. He reminded himself to tell Giesela later.

Yuuri volunteered to read Greta's story, but Wolfram overruled him. He stumbled a lot less, and the story always was more enjoyable, so Yuuri didn't argue. They poured enthusiastically over the harrowing tale of Anissina and her enlistment of the queen of the elves to aid in combating a dark monster that had risen from a lake deep underground. The monster was vanquished with Mr. Drains the Evil Power of Ancient Corruption, powered by the magic of Queen Shale.

Greta was curled up by the end of the bed, asleep by the end of the story. Yuuri smiled. "You know, it's amazing that a scientific inventor type like Lady Anissina could write such silly fantasy about elves in misty mountain forests."

Wolfram set the book down on the bedside table and began to comb his hair. "Really, it's not whimsy. It's just a lack of interest in that kind of research. I bet she hasn't even bothered to talk to any elves. I mean, they're much more likely to be the ones living underground, for one thing. The truth makes just as good a story."

"There are really elves here?" Yuuri blinked in surprise.

"Well, not here, dimwit. There's nowhere really suitable for them to live. Their skin is very sensitive to sunlight and heat, so they really do need a network of caves to live comfortably unless they're willing to go nocturnal. And I don't blame them for not wanting that."

Yuuri shrugged. Why were elves more improbable than dragons? Or Shibuya Yuuri, twenty-Seventh Maou of Shin Makoku? Still, it made him wonder what else he still didn't know about this world. "You know a lot about them. Is that just common knowledge?"

"The Voltaire family mansion is situated in prime elf country. I used to spend a lot of summers there when I was young, since it's cool up in the mountains and Gwendal was usually off on military maneuvers. Conrad and I were supposed to be learning to run a household, but really we just played. Anyway, there was an elf tribe that lived very near the castle and I got to be good friends with some of them.'

Wolfram being good friends with a bunch of tiny, pixie-like creatures almost cracked Yuuri up, but he managed to hold his composure. "Wow, so you just know something about everything. You're really well-rounded." Yuuri internalized a sigh. Yeah. Well-rounded at the expense of health and some sanity.

Wolfram looked very pleased, though, even coloring a little. Yuuri was beginning to like making Wolfram blush. He wondered if he might be able to push it. Making Wolfram feel like he was good at things might make him lessen the pressure on him a bit. And if he'd believe anyone, the Maou uncomfortably realized, it was Yuuri.

"I mean, you're good at everything. Your magic is really amazing, and to have so many other talents is pretty great. I'm not even that good at one thing. The magic I do doesn't count, since I'm not even aware. I'm even mediocre at baseball, in the end."

"Yuuri!" Wolfram actually looked uncomfortable, blushing brightly and twitching. Yuuri had never realized the power of the right compliment. And none of that was even right, most likely, just blundering in the dark.

"Conrad told me you're a musician, too. And pretty good. What do you play?" After this he'd stop. It was just fun now to watch Wolfram squirm.

"I don't know why he told you that. I haven't been able to practice in a long time. I must be rustier than Morgiff." Wolfram looked a little less flustered now that he could argue again.

"Well, I can barely play anything on the recorder, remember. Anything you can do is going to be better than me. Come on, Wolfram, play something for me. Celebrate having your arm working again."

"Fine. But on your own head be it when it hurts your ears." He scowled and stood. "I'll go and get it. Wait." He disappeared into a closet across the room from his bed. Yuuri wondered what it was. Wolfram was probably the wind instrument type, with that poise. A flute? Maybe a clarinet? Something sweet and pretty.

So Yuuri was shocked when the door was shoved back open with Wolfram's hip and he came out dragging a case bigger than he was. Yuuri stood up abruptly. "You play a stand-up bass?"

"It used to be Raven's. He gave it up and Stoffel eventually gave it to me to clear some storage space." Wolfram scowled vaguely, disapproving the fact that the instrument was a hand-me-down, but only as an afterthought.

"You need help moving it?"

"No, it's light. Just awkward." He was obviously straining. Yuuri was about to go insist on helping when Wolfram popped the case open and drew the instrument out. It was gleaming and graceful, if comically huge. Wolfram actually smiled as he unloaded his instrument, and Yuuri was glad to think he at least really liked this effort of his. He tuned the strings and resined the bow with obvious care that made Yuuri feel that hot, swooping sensation again, looking at the pleased intensity on Wolfram's face.

"What should I play?" Yuuri tried to think of something Wolfram could actually know, but his fiancé beat him to it. "Oh, you liked 'Parting at Morning,' didn't you? That was the first song I learned." With another warm, fierce smile, Wolfram slid the bow over the strings and let his eyes slide closed, sliding away on the music from the first notes.

On the first notes, Greta woke with a yawn and sat up, rubbing her eyes and grinning. "Pretty!" Yuuri shushed her and let her climb into his lap.

Yuuri was delighted. Maybe he wasn't a masterful musician, but Wolfram was pouring his whole soul into the song, and that was much more important. The occasional missed or wrong note wasn't the end of the world. And as a very unimpressive baseball player, Yuuri could never criticize someone else's poor use of a passion.

Wolfram really did know that whole song, which Yuuri clocked at seventeen minutes. He looked rather worn out when he was done, but flushed and happy. Yuuri applauded with a grin while Greta bounced up and down and even cheered a little.

"Oh, please, you shameless flatterer." Wolfram tried not to smile and failed, turning red to the ears. "And you're just encouraging him, Greta." He returned to the bed and collapsed there gratefully, smiling despite himself.

Greta nodded happily, not seeing that as a negative. Then she yawned, blinking sleepily.

Yuuri stood, cradling Greta. "I better get her to bed. Thank you for playing for me. Please do it again sometime soon, okay, Wolfram?"

"Hmph. You really are shameless." But even Wolfram's faux scowl couldn't hide the bashful smile as Yuuri and Greta left the room.

**Author's note:** _If parts of this chapter were sub-par, I apologize. As it was being written I experienced the saddest fate a writer may know. The computer ate part of it, an afternoon's work. Not hours of sitting still and typing, but an afternoon of getting in a sentence or two every time I had a spare moment. I had the whole purchase of the ring bit done and it was eaten. So if I wrote in a certain spirit of bitterness, please forgive your humble author. Frankly, I just wanted to make that complaint to someone other than my sister's cat and the Viking who keeps trying to carry me off. If you don't have a Viking, you should get one. They're pretty cool._

_So, on a completely unrelated note to either devoured files or Vikings, did you think I was being too silly with the name of that gemstone? Mystic Fire. Sounds like a garage band. But don't blame me. Blame whoever's in charge of naming gems, because that's real. It's a form of topaz, though in our mundane little world it doesn't occur naturally, but instead only after a bunch of treatment. That's why being a Mazoku rules. Among other things. The more you know._


	8. Not a Day Over Eighty

Yuuri woke to Gunter calling his name outside the door. He sighed. It felt early. He hadn't slept very much. A lot off tossing and turning, odd dreams he didn't quite remember when he woke. He wasn't even sure why the dreams were disturbing him. For some reason, emotion slid away with the memories. It was a bit strange. A nightmare should stick around and defend itself. That was just right.

Greta sat up beside him. "Morning Gunter! We're coming!"

"Yeah, let me get dressed, okay?" Yuuri yawned and rolled out of bed. He really wanted to keep sleeping. But he'd ducked out on Gunter all afternoon, and it was probably his own fault he hadn't gotten enough sleep.

"Of course, Your Majesty. I certainly don't want you to inconvenience yourself."

Yuuri smiled at that, tugging one of the several school uniform replicas from his wardrobe. It was a little rumpled, crooked on the hangar and shoved in clumsily. That wasn't like the maids. They tended to take such pride in their work.

"Greta, did you move anything around in here?"

"Nope. It's just your clothes. Maybe Gunter had to hide?"

"Maybe." Yuuri shrugged and shook the uniform a bit to fix the wrinkles. He dressed quickly and helped Greta with her hair. Which he was not very good at. With his own straight hair, he'd never had much trouble with tangles.

Greta sighed. "Wolfram has to come back and sleep with us again. You're awful with a comb, Yuuri."

Yuuri just coughed. "Well, when Wolfram's awake he can probably help you straighten it up. Don't bother him now, though. He needs to rest up. Remember, we're going out to try out the camera today."

"Ooh, yay!"

"Now, while I finish up my work, why don't you go find something fun to do? I'll come find you once I've fulfilled my kingly duties." Yuuri waved Greta off down the hall and followed Wolfram to the study, where he applied himself to assorted documents with resignation.

Yuuri yawned and slid into his seat, taking up the pen. He made good headway even if his handwriting was wandering sleepily over and under the signature line. He'd discovered that, from his hand, even a senseless scrawl pretty much counted, though he tried not to do that too often. Once in a while getting away with laziness was alright, but making laziness a habit led to trouble. ...And Yuuri was mortified to realize he was quoting his mother without realizing it.

Gunter made idle conversation while pouring over papers of his own. Yuuri had only been working about twenty minutes when the doors were flung open with a delighted cry. Anissina swept inside. "Ah, Gunter, exactly the man I was looking for to power my latest device. Time to meet Mr. Improved Automatic Security!"

Gunter made a sound like a started Siamese cat and jumped out of his chair. "You'll find that I'm very busily engaged in aiding his majesty—"

"Oh, nonsense, Gunter. Besides, you only need to function as a battery. You're acting like I've asked to torture you. Now come here!" She leapt over Gunter's desk, giggling when he dodged away and was stopped rather abruptly by a cabinet's corner stabbing him in the spine. That produced a sound more akin to that same cat releasing a hairball.

Yuuri watched with amusement as Anissina chased Gunter out of the room, brandishing the sword she'd stolen from his belt. As Gunter's cries for mercy faded and Yuuri considered a prayer for the repose of his soul, Lady Celi let herself in.

She set a black box the size of Yuuri's palm, wrapped in a black and gold ribbon, on the corner of his desk. "It arrived last night, but Your Majesty was with Wolfram. I didn't think you'd want an audience for the delivery."

"Uh, no, that's right. Thank you, Lady Celi." Yuuri picked the box up and slid it into his pocket. He wasn't sure when he was going to give it to Wolfram. Sometime today, but it wasn't even nine o' clock yet. So he had a lot of time to get his courage up. Or possibly talk himself out of it... No! He was _not_ going to be a wimp! No! "For everything."

"You _are_ a cutie, Your Majesty. Wolfram's _so_ lucky." She smiled and curtseyed before leaving the room. Yuuri sighed and got back to his work. He could give it to Wolfram when they went out to try taking pictures. But Greta would be with them. Fond as he was of his little girl, Yuuri would be nervous enough with no audience at all. And he'd be explaining things to her for twenty minutes. After dinner? Maybe that would work better. Or after Greta went to sleep. Though Wolfram usually didn't stay up much past Greta lately. He'd deny it, but the assorted injuries were still wearing on him.

He'd do it sometime.

Yuuri, despite his constant dodging, was nearly caught up with his work. And he'd learned enough to keep signing papers without hesitation while waiting for Gunter's return. It only took another hour to finish what was on the desk before him.

Yuuri walked to the window when he finished. A pitiful wail drew his gaze to the gate. Anissina had Gunter wired to some sort of machine that resembled a barbed portcullis attached to a series of small catapults. He didn't want to know. Gunter would be mourned as a hero.

Now he'd finished his work and had no one to give him more. So he could go find Wolfram, assuming he'd be awake. Yuuri's nerves had increased tenfold with the weight of the ring in his pocket. But he knew he wasn't handing the present over yet. So he wouldn't worry yet, either.

Yuuri slipped into the hall. He looked around for Greta, hoping she hadn't wandered to some far corner of the castle. Well, one way or another she'd have been hungry, so a good starting point would have to be the kitchen. He headed down there to find Giesela taking a tray from Lasagna.

"Good morning, Your Majesty. I'm just about to take Wolfram up his breakfast. Would you mind coming along? With you there I probably won't have to force him to eat. And that's better for everyone." There was a wicked twitch at the side of her mouth and Yuuri shivered.

"Um, sure." He glanced at Lasagna. "Have you seen Greta?"

"Oh, she's giving Sangria a hand with the spice inventory, Your Majesty." Lasagna pointed to a small door. "Just through there. She wanted to know why cookies tasted so good. I'm afraid Sangria took advantage of her enthusiasm a little."

Yuuri shrugged. Greta was the kind of person who actually _could_ make chores fun. She was probably enjoying tallying jars of spice. He opened the indicated door, finding it led to a small, cool room cut into the earth. He walked down and saw Greta perched on Sangria's shoulders, counting tiny brown bottles.

He waved when Sangria jumped a bit and spun around to look at him, eliciting a pleased cry from Greta. Grown-ups made great rides. "Um, could I borrow my daughter back? It's time to make Wolfram eat before the Flybone Tribe starts mistaking him for one of his own."

"Oh, of course, Your Majesty. Thank you, Greta. You were very helpful." Sangria lifted Greta down from her shoulders.

"Sangria says I'm a great inventory-er," Greta informed Yuuri as they walked back up into the main kitchen and took off with Giesela.

"You're a talented girl, Greta." Yuuri smiled, then turned to glance over Wolfram's tray. He hadn't actually had breakfast yet himself. He considered asking to bring up his own meal, but Yuuri didn't want to hold them up anymore. The tray held a tiny teapot, fragrantly steaming scents of mint, cloves, and hibiscus. There were two covered dishes, one smelling like cinnamon and syrup, the other spicy and savory. A tiny pot of honey and a ceramic creamer shaped like a dragon sat beside an empty cup. Yuuri was sort of jealous, and his stomach growled a bit.

Giesela giggled at him, but didn't say anything. She was trying to train the Maou to be a bit more assertive. If he wanted something, he'd have to get it himself or ask.

Greta told Yuuri about the spices she'd inventoried in very solemn detail. He was hearing about nutmeg when they reached the door to Wolfram's room. Yuuri held it for Giesela and walked in behind her.

Wolfram was asleep. He wasn't sprawled as usual but curled up elegantly. His hair fell over his face gently, blond waves outlining his high cheekbones and delicate jaw line. That frilly pink thing he insisted on wearing looked, as usual, like an explosion of cotton candy and rose perfume. Come to think of it, the room did smell faintly of roses. Wolfram usually did, so Yuuri didn't think about it much anymore.

He looked glorious. Yuuri thought he might be a bit pale, but it was probably just that he was sleeping. Altogether, the effect was angelic, and the Maou had a mad impulse to pull the ring out now. But he wasn't that crazy.

Greta skipped into the room. "Wolfram! It's time to get up and have your breakfast and go out to play with your cam-er-a with me and Yuuri!" She shook Wolfram's shoulder—the side opposite the stab wound—gently. "Up and face the day!"

Wolfram grunted and pulled his pillow over his head.

"Wolfram, get up or I'll jump on you!"

There was a muffled response that Yuuri _thought_ was "No jumping on the invalid," but for all he knew might have been "Snow pumping marmalade." Wolfram slept on very thick, downy pillows, and he didn't enunciate that clearly when he was sleepy anyway.

"Well, then I suppose he must be feeling ill again. Wait right here while I fetch your medicine, Wolfram. Yuuri, you'll have to hold him still while I check all the bandages and wounds for possible infections." Giesela grinned evilly and began to roll her sleeves up. "We might have to cauterize a few things. The only way to stop an infection that can even beat magic without having to amputate. And I suppose harder splints would take care of those legs."

Wolfram sat bolt upright, shying back a bit from Giesela. "I'm awake! I'm awake! Call her off!" He let the pillow fall onto his lap and yawned. "What time is it?"

"By now? About ten thirty," Giesela said dryly. "So you can ease up on the righteous indignation."

Yuuri felt a little guilty, but he'd left Wolfram alone fairly early. "Didn't you go to sleep after I left?"

"Well, actually, I felt like practicing after you and Greta liked my playing so much, so I was toying with the bass until about two, and..." Wolfram suddenly clamped his mouth shut and Yuuri sighed. His fiancé was insane.

"Well, then it's your own fault. Here. Some tea will buck you up." Giesela poured a steaming cup and added copious amounts of cream and honey. She handed it to Wolfram and finally his look softened. He was a sucker for good tea, and Giesela's medical mixes managed to always work as well as they tasted.

Yuuri smiled and walked to the bed while Wolfram drank the tea. "After you eat, I thought we'd go walk around the grounds and you can try out your camera, do some portraits and some landscapes so you can get used to the lens." He knew only the rudiments himself. Maybe he should ask Shori to visit again and show Wolfram how to do it properly. They'd have to see how the first roll came out.

"Good idea. But I'm not hungry. So I'll just get dressed and we can get going."

"Yes you are," Giesela said sweetly, lifting the lids off both dishes. Yuuri wondered what you called French toast in a world with no France. The other plate was a mess of eggs and sausage all scrambled together and topped with cheese, chopped onions, and mushrooms.

"What's this dish called, anyway?" Yuuri was willing to help bully Wolfram into eating enough. He just really wondered. Maybe there _was_ a France.

"Cavalcadian toast, Your Majesty." Well, that made sense. Sort of. He supposed.

"I said I'm not hungry. For this or anything else. Here, Greta, why don't you have this?" Wolfram lifted the Calavcadian toast (which left Yuuri still mildly nonplussed) and held it out to his daughter. Greta seemed to like the idea, her sweet-tooth as strong as ever. But Yuuri shook his head and she stepped back.

"Wolfram, you're going to eat your breakfast. All of it." He couldn't be nearly as imposing as Giesela, so he was forced to throw his rank around. "I'm making that a royal order. So eat the toast or it's treason." He couldn't believe he'd said that. Even Giesela was snickering, while Greta squealed with laughter and half collapsed against the side of Wolfram's bed.

Wolfram scowled and sullenly took a bite. His expression lightened a bit when he tasted Doria's specialty, which Giesela _had_ asked her to put special effort into. She understood that Wolfram had no appetite and didn't really enjoy making things unpleasant for him. "Fine. But I can't stomach all this. You'll have to help me."

"Stop trying to get out of it, Wolr-" Yuuri stopped short when a forkful of Calvalcadian toast was shoved in his mouth. It was very good. And the look on Wolfram's face, a smug but affectionate smile, was cute. Yuuri didn't even try to pretend it wasn't. But there was something very disconcerting about being fed by Wolfram. Giesela's rather shocked giggle didn't make him feel any better.

"Ooh, can I have a bite too? It smells really yummy." Greta leaned on the mattress right beside Wolfram, mouth open and tongue out like a baby bird until Wolfram popped a morsel into her mouth.

Yuuri swallowed a little sullenly. He found himself just watching Wolfram. He wasn't sure how long. Probably only a few seconds.

There was a slight toss of his hair as he leaned forward to sip his tea, a tiny stirring of a scowl at the eggs mounded on his fork that narrowed his eyes, the batting of luxurious eyelashes against his cheeks as Wolfram tried to blink the last vestiges of sleep away.

He was so beautiful.

The Maou shook his head and took a sip from Wolfram's tea. It was way too sweet for his tastes, and the cream was peculiar. He set it down immediately, and met Wolfram's glare. "Oh, you're allowed to steal my drinks, but I can't steal yours?"

"That was an emergency." Wolfram took a gulp of the rapidly cooling tea, trying to look superior.

Greta tilted her head, cheerfully inquisitive. "Wasn't that an indirect kiss?"

"No!" Yuuri said, too quickly and very emphatically. Even the ring in his pocket made him less nervous than the least suggestion of him kissing Wolfram.

"Hmph, you should cherish the chance, you wimp." Wolfram took a much heartier bite of his toast, apparently forgetting his aversion to eating for a moment, engaged in glowering at Yuuri instead. And he kept eating steadily for a little while.

But Yuuri wasn't going to force him, and by the time both plates were halfway gone, Wolfram was looking very put off by the food. He shot a look at Giesela, who shrugged and nodded.

"Okay, you can stop eating. You don't want to make yourself sick. But you don't want to waste away to nothing, either." Yuuri considered inviting his mother back to make curry for Wolfram and coo over him. She'd enjoy that and it would take some stress off Giesela.

Wolfram nodded, looking very grateful, and set the tray down. Yuuri handed the toast to Greta and set into the eggs and himself, grateful for the nourishment. It would have to last him at least until lunch. If he had a moment for lunch today.

Giesela piled up the dirty dishes. "Wolfram, I do want you to go easy. Enjoy your walk, but please try and show a bit of common sense. Dredge it up somewhere. You put yourself under far too much stress at that party."

Wolfram just grunted. Yuuri assured Giesela he'd find a way to enforce her edict while Wolfram dressed, carefully and as properly as ever. He even insisted on combing Greta's hair properly before he'd leave, the camera bag slung over his shoulder, holding the bulky camera as instructed. Yuuri had to pretend to cough to hide a snicker. Against Wolfram's resplendent, medieval garb, the sleek camera looked ridiculous.

Wolfram teetered a little, but wouldn't spare a hand for the cane or even to grab Yuuri. He was too engrossed in the camera. Yuuri and Greta both walked very close, ready to catch Wolfram if he faltered.

He managed to snap a picture of Gwendal and another of Anissina before they even got outside. The former just stared at them a moment, grunted, and moved on. Anissina tried to steal the camera, and only directing her in Gwendal's direction saved it from being taken apart. Even the Maou's royal commands couldn't help when Anissina got that look in her eye.

Yuuri tried to give Wolfram general tips, but he didn't pay a lot of attention, ordering Yuuri and Greta to pose in front of things like the flowerbed and fountain and snapping pictures left and right. Yuuri figured half at least would come out blurry, but that was a real step up from Wolfram's usual success rate in art. And they'd have a lot of pictures of horses, the battlements, Conrad smiling tolerantly at them, and Greta splashing Yuuri in the fountain to admire at length.

He could even show them to his mother. Miko would appreciate this cheery, safe aspect to the alternate world.

"Yuuri, what's that noise?"

"A shutter constantly snapping?" Yuuri guessed. But he heard something too, a faint, faraway buzz that had nothing to do with Wolfram's frantic camera. He was on his second roll now. "I don't know. Wolfram, do you hear that?"

"Hmm? I wasn't listening." He whirled on Yuuri and snapped a picture. "You're going to be making a weird face in that…" Wolfram trailed off. The sound was getting louder, a buzz with something squeaky and oddly melodious following. There was a dark spot in the sky to the south, growing larger and more distinct. A lot of things flying toward them. They didn't really look like birds.

"That. Do you hear that?" Yuuri pointed, squinting toward them. The animals in Shin Makoku were so weird.

"Strange sound. Kind of familiar, though." Wolfram joined him in peering at them.

"Wolfram, use the zoomy thing! Bet you can see them then!" Greta's favorite part of the camera was the zoom function. It made a great whirring noise and just had a wonderful name for saying over and over. Zoom!

"Good idea." He used the camera sight as a telescope. Wolfram gasped and would have let the camera fall had it not been for the strap. "Yuuri, our children are home!"

"What?" Greta had been hopping up and down, hoping an added few inches would help her see. She looked over her shoulder and tripped, then stared up at Wolfram, then Yuuri, from the ground. Did she have flying, buzzy brothers and sisters all of a sudden?

"What?" Yuuri was just confused until Wolfram shoved the camera in front of him.

They were looking at a swarm of Bear Bees. Now that he knew what to listen for, the little squeaks became calls of "Nogisu!" They were approaching fast, and distance was hard to judge, but Yuuri was sure every one of them had at least doubled in size. Yuuri grinned, letting Wolfram try and explain it to Greta. Such memories. The adorable Bear Bees and their big, playful grubby forms, massive cocoons, sweet faces… Oh, that was all nice. Enough to make up for the final quashing of Yuuri's hope for a room to himself. But there was more to his wistful smile than the Bear Bees themselves. Winning an argument with Wolfram. The pretty smile on Wolfram's face as he admired their handiwork. Being so gently protected from falling debris. The way Wolfram's mouth had been right behind his ear for a second there…

Yuuri stopped himself. Quite aside from how wrong it was that he was thinking on things like that fondly, how had it stuck in his head for the months it must have been since it happened? No wonder the world was still reeling from the pleasant novelty of the Twenty-Seventh Maou. He didn't even understand _himself_ sometimes.

"Quick, Yuuri, let's get to the guesthouse!" Wolfram grabbed Yuuri's hand and started to run. He fell immediately and Yuuri had to dive to catch him. He kept Wolfram from hitting the cobblestone path, but only by falling on it himself. Yuuri looked slightly embarrassed as he stood, helping his equally mortified fiancé to his feet.

"Let me give you a hand and we'll _walk_." Resigned, Yuuri hugged Wolfram around the waist. Again. He supposed he should just get used to it already. The tiny box bouncing against his thigh as he walked suggested the same.

Greta ran ahead, as the Bear Bees had finally gotten close enough to make out and she had ascertained they were excessively cute. Most denizens of Covenant Castle had noticed the approaching creatures by then. Windows were opened on every floor, with heads from Gwendal's to Celi's maid's sticking out in curiosity. At Shinou's Temple, Ken Murata and Ulrike looked up at the sky and smiled. The swarm was even visible in the closest human village.

They all landed on the roof of the guest house, but as Yuuri and Wolfram arrived, most of the Bear Bees flew down with calls of "Nogisu!" and furry, sweet hugs. As they were all nearly as big as their "parents" now, that was a bit of an issue, and Yuuri was knocked over.

They seemed to sense, however, that Wolfram wasn't in a conditioned to be tackled. They were far gentler and more restrained with him, though he still got some very tight bear hugs.

Greta was skipping among them with glee. "Yay! I have the best brothers and sisters in the world!"

Wolfram laughed. "No argument there." Then he saw Conrad smirking from behind a tallish Bear Bee and was so overwhelmed by the cuteness of his "children" he forgot to pretend he didn't care about being overheard.

Yuuri stood back up with a Bear Bee on his shoulders. They were wonderfully light. He supposed they had to be, to fly. "Hey, where's the really big one?"

"That was the male. He'll have left his sisters to join another swarm, and has no need to return to nesting grounds, anyway." Conrad stroked the nose of the nearest Bear Bee. "These are all the females."

"So I only have sisters here?" Greta pondered a moment and decided she didn't care. Her skipping resumed, and several of her sisters mimicked her clumsily. Wolfram snapped a picture of it, and once he'd remembered the camera started taking pictures of every Bear Bee in sight.

"Now we'll have a family album, I guess," Yuuri said, shrugging. There was a time he'd have been exasperated, but he'd given that up.

"I think you already did." Conrad sighed as Wolfram's relentless shutter found him. "I always hated having that done…"

"How many times have you had your picture taken?" There were those passports Bob had had made for them on Earth, but no one looked good in a passport photo.

"...You would be amazed at the things Jose thinks are funny." Conrad left it at that, and shoved Yuuri back into what was quickly becoming a fray. A fray of skipping Bear Bees and random cuddling, but a fray nonetheless.

Yuuri gave in and laughed, hugging the first of his children he could get a hold of. They were snuggly enough on their own that he didn't have to chase them very much. With a gleeful giggle, Greta threw her arms around Yuuri along with three of her new sisters. Yuuri grinned, then grunted in surprise when he felt Wolfram's arms around his neck, too.

He went a little rigid at the unexpected hug, but not much. Whatever. He did suddenly remember the last time Wolfram had glommed onto him from behind, when they gave their warmth to the sickly cocoon. Wolfram seemed to be thinking the same.

"The love you give comes back to you, hmm?" He smiled brightly, grinning as one of their daughters licked his cheek. "You really did win that one, Yuuri."

"Yeah, well, I have to get something right once in a while." He supposed he should try to get out of this hug, but it was pretty comfortable, surrounded by the assorted, adorable members of his very makeshift family.

Wolfram laughed as Greta was enveloped by a three-way, furry Bear Bee hug. His cheek suddenly pressed against Yuuri's, and they both froze. Yuuri felt an intense shock travel through him, an electric sensation that began where Wolfram's soft, smooth skin rubbed against his and traveled instantaneously down to his toes. They both abruptly tore apart with uncomfortable coughs and a bit of incoherent stammering.

Wolfram went back to taking pictures, yelling at Yuuri every time he went through a roll of film and demanding it be changed. He plowed through the five they had in less than half an hour, and Yuuri had to promise to take them back to Earth to be developed as soon as possible.

Yuuri found he preferred it once the camera stopped snapping, hanging innocuously in its bag over Wolfram's shoulder. He was dubious about everything, from the insistent weight of the carefully chosen ring to Wolfram's repeated insistence that the Bear Bees were the children of their love. But he couldn't mind the whole mismatched family cavorting adorably around on the castle grounds for what turned out to be several hours. Yuuri didn't know where the time had gone when The Bear Bees began to wander into the guesthouse.

"They're going to scope out the nesting grounds," Conrad said wisely. He had wandered off and come back several times, increasingly surprised at how nice Yuuri and Wolfram were playing. They'd had a lot of spectators coming and going, mostly unnoticed. Gwendal had lingered a long time, transfixed by the incredible cuteness of the Bear Bees. Doria, Lasagna, and Sangria had loitered as long as they dared to neglect their work. Anissina had not only cooed over the creatures but collected bits of shed fur for unknown reasons. Even Lady Celi stopped to admire.

"How long are they going to stay?" Wolfram looked utterly exhausted, pale and disheveled, his hair tossed in every direction and his eyes hooded. But he was smiling.

"Several days, at least. If they find they like the climate, maybe longer. But no more than a week. Bear Bees always move around a lot." There were almost none left outside now, and it felt cold and quiet as a result after an afternoon of furry hugs and constant "Nogisu!"

"Aw, I wanna play with them longer!" Greta stuck out her lower lip, waving at the last Bear Bee as it strolled into the guesthouse.

"So we won't have long with our children." Wolfram sighed a little melodramatically. "Pity. But we'll have to make good use of the time we do have." He smiled very gently at Yuuri. "At least we can show them how much our bond of love has deepened since." Yuuri just grunted, not looking at Wolfram and flushing just a little.

"I think you need some rest. Giesela's already going to have my head for letting you stay out this long anyway." Yuuri didn't like just how fatigued Wolfram looked. They'd been rougher than they should have been, cavorting with Bear Bees all day, and it was, Yuuri realized, about five hours or more they'd been outside. Wolfram had been on his feet the whole time. Of course he was tired. But, though the Maou had always been lousy at first aid, he had a sense Wolfram shouldn't be _this_ tired.

"I'm fine." Not that Yuur had expected him to say anything else. "Maybe a little worn out, but it was certainly worth it so see all our children."

"Right. Here, come on inside. Greta, get his other hand and don't listen if he whines." Yuuri hooked his arm in Wolfram's. "Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Well, I am." Yuuri considered. "It'll be dinnertime in… What, about an hour?" Greta nodded as she clung to Wolfram's other hand. "Why don't you have a quick nap before then, and then we'll all go down and eat together?" Wolfram had been showing up for meals about half the time.

"That's totally unnecessary. If you don't have real work to do, you could probably use some practice with—" Wolfram wasn't allowed to finish.

"Practice! Good idea. Greta, we haven't had time to practice baseball in a couple days now. We don't want to get rusty."

Greta hopped up and down and clapped. "Ooh! I'll go get our gloves, okay?" Greta hopped up and down and clapped.

Wolfram rolled his eyes. "I don't understand how you can find any interest in that tedious game." There had been one real game at the stadium that Wolfram had been dragged to by Conrad. He'd been bored out of his mind.

"If you'd learn the subtleties, you'd like it a lot more. If you don't understand the game, I guess it does just look like a bunch of guys hitting a ball with a stick." Yuuri hated to admit it, but he could, reluctantly, see where it was true. He was almost tempted to let Anissina introduce her line of baseball-related inventions to enliven the game. He gave her a lot of leeway, as she'd turned out to be his best shortstop and a pretty good batter, if a little given to fouls a hairsbreadth outside left field.

Greta had already run off in pursuit of their equipment, so Wolfram didn't whine anymore, just rolling his eyes. She returned and Yuuri happily tossed her easy pitches. He didn't want her to get discouraged, though he also didn't want to go too easy on her.

Wolfram sat back against a tree and watched them disdainfully. Yuuri and Greta played until it started to get dark. He forgot Wolfram was sitting there until he gathered up the gloves and ball and glanced over at the tree.

He'd fallen asleep leaning against the trunk. A leaf had fallen in his hair, caught in a curl and draped over his eye. Yuuri laughed and shook him awake. Groggily, he stood, leaning very heavily on Yuuri.

"So, you weren't tired?" The Maou tried not to laugh obviously.

"Anyone would drift off with nothing to watch but a little ball tossed back and forth. Sometimes I wish the populace could see what their beloved Maou gets up to, see if they still feel like fawning over such a wimp."

"Okay." Why argue? Insults were Wolfram's true medium as an artist, never mind the bass and the camera. "It's about dinnertime. Let's go."

"I'm not hungry, you know. I want that understood."

"And you're free to explain that to your mother."

The meal was uneventful, though Yuuri caught Lady Celi looking at him a lot. Gwendal seemed a little... less dour, probably afterglow from the ungodly cute Bear Bees. Conrad chatted comfortably throughout the meal. Gunter lectured Yuuri about getting absolutely nothing done while at the same time praising him for his rescue of the Bear Bees and agreeing with their adoration. So standard conversation with Gunter.

Wolfram continued to worry him a little. He still seemed tired and listless, though he'd slept a pretty long time. Maybe it hadn't been a very restful sleep, propped against a tree, but it should have done some good. He barely picked at his food in spite of all Yuuri's, Celi's, Greta's, and even Gwendal's cajoling, and barely took a bite even when Giesela stormed in and threatened him. He only grunted when spoken to and sighed occasionally. He looked close to falling asleep at the table.

Yuuri finished, finding his own appetite a little eroded with worry. "Wolfram you want to go upstairs now? You had a pretty long day. I'll walk you." He stood and held out his hand. Without much enthusiasm, Wolfram nodded and let Yuuri help him up.

"Wait for me!" Greta dropped her fork on her half-empty plate and stood up on her chair.

"Greta, I think Wolfram just needs to rest right now. I'll come back and read a story to you after he's settled in." Yuuri didn't want to exclude her, but Wolfram would force himself to stay awake if Greta was there.

She shrugged, thankfully not pleading. Yuuri doubted he could really say no to her. "Okay. And tomorrow we can get up early and play with the Bear Bees some more!"

Yuuri nodded and fell into step beside a very languid Wolfram. Once out of the dining room, Yuuri whispered, "You really don't look so good. We should have listened to Giesela."

"I'm tired, Yuuri. I'm just trying to recover. It's taking a little longer than I—" He stumbled and Yuuri had to catch him again. It was getting easier. Yuuri looked at Wolfram's hand in his and sighed. That wrist wasn't much fuller around than Greta's. The morning's breakfast had probably been his closest to a proper meal in a long time.

"Then take care of yourself!" Yuuri frowned, steadying Wolfram deliberately. "Get the sleep you need, eat proper meals, and listen to Giesela. Otherwise you'll probably keep making yourself worse."

"I am not _worse_!" Wolfram glared at Yuuri. It wasn't a very effective glare with his face looking so ghostly. And when he yawned the effect was totally spoiled.

"Wolfram, you're really sick right now. You can argue all you want. It's still true." Yuuri surprised (but didn't really disturb) himself by tightening his arm around Wolfram's waist. "You protect me all the time. Now it's my turn to take care of you."

Wolfram blinked, looking downright confused by that. "It's my duty to protect you. You're my—"

"Fiancé. Yes. So what does that make my duty. I can't use a sword to save my life and my power is totally unpredictable. So nursing you is about the best I can do." Yuuri smiled. He might have won his _second_ argument with Wolfram.

"At least you're trying." Wolfram tried to sound sulky, but he gave Yuuri a sleepy smile that melted the Maou's heart. "Fine. I'll rest now. But don't think I'm staying in bed all tomorrow."

"If you behave yourself now I'm sure you'll be better by then." Yuuri opened the door to Wolfram's room and eased him into the bed. Wolfram hung on a little longer than Yuuri felt was called for, arms around Yuuri's neck and a tired but sweet smile in his eyes.

Then he fell back and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Yuuri smiled and left the room, heading back to his own. He'd been glad the castle had fewer soldiers once, glad Wolfram could move into the small but luxurious suite he now occupied. But now he found he really wouldn't have minded Wolfram stretching out beside him. At least it would be easier to keep an eye on him. His sudden deterioration was really a bit frightening.

Greta had brushed her teeth and put on her nightgown by the time Yuuri got to their room. It wasn't that late, but she wanted a lot of stories and had been worn out a bit by the strenuous afternoon herself. Yuuri read her _Mr. Deep Exploration Ship and the Sea Kingdom_, _Anissina Saves Cavalcade_, _Sunset in the West_, and half of _The Palace of Queen Karvelnikoff_.

Yuuri went for a glass of water when Greta fell asleep, feeling rather put upon. That was a lot of reading. And the Maou himself had appeared as a character in _The Palace_, not in the most flattering fashion. His throat was scratchy and his pride just a little wounded. It wasn't _that_ bothersome, if only because Anissina already scared him to the point of humiliation by her very existence.

He had his drink and started to pull his jacket off. There was a thump as the little black box fell to the floor. Yuuri groaned. He'd forgotten. Or he was pretty sure he'd forgotten. Maybe he'd forgotten just a little bit on purpose. But Yuuri refused to have his resolve shaken, now that he recalled it. There were only three hours left in Wolfram's birthday.

Wolfram was sure to be asleep, and Yuuri didn't want to wake him. Maybe he'd just leave the box? That was the wimpiest way he could think of to not be a wimp, but he could stand to take baby steps. He shoved the box back in his pocket and headed deliberately for Wolfram's room, his heart pounding in his ears.

Yuuri slunk in, opening the door slowly to avoid the smallest little creak. To his surprise, the light was still on. He was about to scold Wolfram for being up when he remembered his fiancé had fallen asleep without even undressing. Yuuri should have put out the lamp himself.

He walked to the side of the bed, opening the top drawer of the nightstand where the snuffer was kept. At first, Yuuri was very careful, moving in what was practically slow motion. But he realized Wolfram wasn't stirring at all. He was a pretty heavy sleeper, actually.

Yuuri smiled and glanced over. He'd put the lamp out after he had his gift where Wolfram was sure to find it.

He set the box on the corner of the nightstand even with Wolfram's eyes. He'd see them as soon as he woke up.

Wait. That was odd, Wolfram actually sleeping on the pillow and not taking up half the bed. He did it once in a while, surely, but… Yuuri looked closer. Wolfram hadn't moved an inch since Yuuri had set him down.

Worried, Yuuri reached for Wolfram's shoulder. His hand clamped down, but Wolfram didn't move, didn't react at all. Yuuri pushed him from his side onto his back, which at least got a tiny little grunt that sounded more like air being pushed from his lungs than any voluntary noise. Yuuri, his heart pounding hard in his ears, reached with a trembling hand to touch Wolfram's cheek.

The moment his shaking fingers made contact, he screamed for Giesela. The skin was cold and clammy, and Wolfram was paler than the sheets he lay on. He was barely breathing.


	9. With Love

Giesela had taken to sleeping in the maid's quarters just off Wolfram's room. Like Yuuri, she was more worried than she even felt was justified, more than Wolfram's gradual recovery from being stabbed in the chest could reason away. Her sense of foreboding had almost been put to rest as she brushed her hair that night, perched at the tiny desk already ready for bed.

The Maou's frantic cry sent a nasty reproach through her. Getting complacent! Trying to make herself do it! That was shameful for a doctor. She ran out into Wolfram's room, her hair flowing behind her and clad in a billowing white nightgown, looking much less the cute-but-severe supergirl she liked to appear and… well, actually, a lot more like Gunter. They were in fact related—albeit distantly—by blood.

"What is it?" She didn't doubt that something was very wrong. The Maou wouldn't panic over nothing, and he seemed unlikely to have misjudged something. Also, he'd practically screamed and she didn't hear Wolfram arguing.

"I don't know, but it's bad." He was barely restraining himself from gibbering. Yuuri had gone almost as pale as Wolfram. "Cold, and sweating a lot, and not moving, and…" He took a deep breath. "Well, you're the doctor."

"Yes. Move." She was a doctor first and a subject second. Giesela wasn't particularly gentle in shoving Yuuri out of the way. She bent over Wolfram, looking close. Yuuri's vague list of symptoms held true. Rapid pulse, shallow, erratic breathing, and hypothermia. But he was sweating, too. Giesela opened one of Wolfram's eyes with her thumb. The pupil was contracted to a pinpoint, and even that didn't get a response.

She hung her head in shame. There was only one thing it could be, and she should have seen it. "Your Majesty, I'm so sorry."

"No!" Yuuri didn't know what was going on, but he knew he refused to lose Wolfram. "No! He isn't going to die!"

"I can try, Your Majesty, but…" It was probably hopeless. "There are two forms of the Tears of El. One very fast acting, one very slow. The knife must have been coated with both." Poisons weren't her specialty, but when Anissina had told him what their human antagonists were using, she'd been studying. "These are textbook symptoms of the slow acting form." Giesela placed her hands over the wound, throwing as much power as she dared into Wolfram. He made a tiny noise, but otherwise it seemed to have little or no effect.

"I thought I stopped the poison." He'd failed to protect Wolfram…

"Your power is very strong, Your Majesty, and you have a flair for healing." Giesela had been tempted to ask Yuuri if he wanted more training, but didn't think it would be fitting for the Maou to study the arts of a healing witch. "But you're untrained, and all the power could work on was the poison attacking him then. This toxin hadn't even spread through his system then. And Wolfram hid his worsening condition from both of us."

There was a knock on the door. Neither Yuuri nor Giesela looked away from the bed or bothered to acknowledge whoever was requesting entry. There was a more insistent knock, solid and mildly irritated, and then the door was open. Gwendal stepped inside. "I heard—" He took in the tragic tableau before him, Wolfram looking like a corpse already, Yuuri clinging to the bedpost shakily, a bead of sweat rolling off Giesela's nose as she forced power out of herself.

Gwendal was a soldier. He didn't want to risk interrupting the doctor, and he needed only basic details. "Your Majesty?"

Yuuri couldn't tear his eyes from Wolfram. "Slow acting poison on the knife." He swallowed, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "He wouldn't tell anyone."

Which sounded exactly like Wolfram. Gwendal was certainly no healer, but he could perceive the problem immediately. The damage had gone too far. It would take incredible power to pull Wolfram back from the edge, whereas if the poison had been caught earlier, it could probably have been defeated with ease.

"Giesela, who in the castle is likely to be of help to you?" She couldn't do it alone. No one could. Gwendal's heart was pounding in his chest. His little brother was… But he couldn't lose his cool.

"Anissina. Father. Sangria. Hube." Only the first two had any healing training, but there was raw talent to the maid and to the veteran warrior she'd have loved to tap. But Giesela could spare no more attention from Wolfram than to bark the names. She was afraid she'd falter soon. Wolfram needed so much help, so fast… Power wasn't meant to flow like that, and flow it didn't. She had to put a lot of her energy into forcing it out. She was rapidly putting herself in the same condition Yuuri had been in after the attack. Giesela knew how inadvisable that was, unlike the Maou, but she didn't try to prevent it. If she could hold on until some other healers could arrive…

Yuuri finally pulled himself together. He put his hands on Wolfram's chest as well, figuring that was where the poison had spread from. He hoped Giesela was right about his "flair" for healing.

It did flow more easily, he realized. Yuuri still had to slip out of himself and let the power of the demon king flow through him to summon even his familiar water dragons, never mind his golems of earth and debris. He didn't even feel unlike himself as he moved the soft, living energy through his hands, into Wolfram. He could feel the battle that went on there, his and Giesela's strength against the toxic, hateful force destroying Wolfram's body.

It was, he realized, a battle, with its own weapons and rules of engagement. But the enemy was death itself, and the battleground the spoils of the victor. Fighting within Wolfram was fighting for Wolfram. Yuuri and Giesela had to win this fight, or the triumphant Tears of El would carry away his pretty fiancé.

Yuuri wasn't feeling too heroic right now, not the knight in shining armor who was a match for the fearsome villain attempting to make off with his Wolfram. It was a nice metaphor, but he would rather lose Wolfram to some concrete rival than to the painful death waiting to swallow him.

Wolfram convulsed, and Yuuri slipped out of his trance. He'd been feeding power steadily behind Giesela's, shoring her attempts up, defending against the poison as Giesela tried to actually heal. The real problem was that the poison, now entrenched in Wolfram's body, was undoing all their work as they went. Ravaged and weakened by his silent and avidly denied striving against the poison, Wolfram was rapidly succumbing to the toxin.

It was outstripping the Maou and the doctor now, even as Anissina bounded into the room and slapped her hand onto Wolfram's stomach, backing them up without bothering to ask questions. Like Yuuri, she had a lot of unrefined power, and figured it would find a way to help. Healing magic was a lot more versatile than the kind of raw energy that foolish men were always pouring out to destroy each other.

Yuuri refused to lose. He felt Wolfram slipping as he twitched again. He tried to redouble his efforts, which didn't work well. Yuuri was already trying his hardest. How could he not, with Wolfram on the line?

"Your Majesty, please try to hold him still!" Giesela looked very tired. "The… the last stages of affliction by the Tears of El…" She saw the look on Yuuri's face when he took in what she'd said and regretted it. "Are very painful."

So now it was torturing Wolfram to death? There was a furious spark in Yuuri's eyes. He grabbed Wolfram's emaciated wrists (was that an effect of his slow poisoning, too?) and pushed down on them, keeping him from moving.

Gunter entered the room, clad in a nightgown identical to Giesela's, with a little stocking cap hanging over one eye. There was no trace at all of the sillier aspect of his personality despite looking so overpoweringly cute. "Giesela!"

"Yes, Papa." She was almost fainting, and let him pull her back, immediately taking her place. But in the split second he took to replace her, Yuuri felt something slip further. He could feel Wolfram's pulse under his hands, and it was quickening. Wolfram whined, a thin, high-pitched sound, and childish. Painful.

Yuuri was vaguely aware of Sangria hurrying into the room, looking for space around the bed to join the healers. In fact, his senses seemed sharpened, the world slowed. There were three sets of heavy footsteps running toward them and one very light set that clicked a lot. Gunter's eyes narrowed as he focused power he was a little rusty with into the young lord's body. There was a little clicking noise on the window sill, where a curious Bear Bee had landed. The door swung open to admit Hube, Gwendal, Conrad, and Lady Celi.

In the sharp clarity of the moment, Yuuri was well aware that something unspeakably horrible was about to happen. He was almost calm about that, but only because he could feel his heart beginning to freeze, knowing that misery he'd never known the like of was about to hit.

And that was when Wolfram's heart stopped. His body had been rigid, shaking with pain, but he went entirely limp, Yuuri's name on his lips, the word barely formed and no breath left to provide the least sound. Yuuri cried out wordlessly, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

Gunter cried out in mortified anguish, Anissina cursed, and Sangria started to cry. Taking their cues, Gwendal whirled around, covering his mouth in his hand, Hube's mouth thinned to a line, and Lady Celi descended into loud sobs. Conrad fell limply against the doorframe. Giesela covered her face in her hands, wracked by shame and too tired to cry. Down the hall, Greta was roused by the assorted cries she heard and a gut-wrenching sense of doom. She was alone. Yuuri had left her, and something terrible had happened. Inaudible in the chaos of misery that Wolfram's room, a little girl several doors down began to cry.

"I will not allow this."

No one's eyes had been on the Maou. They all whirled at the deep, commanding voice that was so unlike Yuuri—most of the time. Sure enough, the bumbling, wide-eyed youth he was most of the time had vanished, replaced by the fierce-eyed and wild Maou.

But this aspect of the Maou looked far different than what anyone there had seen before. Where usually angry and disdainful, he was smiling determinedly, admiring, even looking pleased. He was also leaning over Wolfram rather than standing straight and posing, holding the thin wrists tight. The Maou lifted Wolfram's hands to his chest with that odd smile still in place.

"It has always been my wish to give life."

"Nogisu!"

"Nogisu!"

"Nogisu!"

Three Bear Bees had assembled at Wolfram's window, and as though on cue they leapt through, beating their wings furiously, sending a cloud of shed scales at Wolfram and the Maou. The miasma of tiny scales swirled for a long moment, hiding the bed, before all settling upon Wolfram, dissolving at the touch of his damp skin. The Bear Bees made happy little buzzing sounds as two of them flew away again, a third sitting beside the bed.

A green glow began to emanate from the Maou, every inch of him bursting with power. The glow lasted just a moment before all shooting into Wolfram, shining so brightly the room was illuminated as though by lightening. Except that it was goldish green, a warm color, full of life and Yuuri and Wolfram, to those who knew them. Though power was only sent to Wolfram, everyone in the room felt warmed and rejuvenated. Even Giesela felt less like collapsing and more like getting up to help again, not that she was foolish enough to get in the Maou's way.

The flash of light faded slowly, until the only light in the room was the lamp, still flickering merrily with Wolfram's little spark of magic. Though far less impressive, it warmly illumined the bed.

Yuuri, back to his usual self, had collapsed flat on his face, which was now buried in one of Wolfram's pillows. His chest was across his fiancé's and his waist awkwardly bent as it hung off the bed. His knees dangled above the ground, so his stomach was taking most of his weight. Yuuri shook his head and pushed himself up, standing a little unsteadily. Still, he was in much better shape than usual for that kind of outpouring of power.

"Nogisu!" Yuuri smiled at the sound, which somehow gave him the courage to look down at Wolfram.

His cheeks had color again, and he was breathing normally. Yuuri sighed in tired relief, falling to his knees. He realized he was still holding Wolfram's hands too late. He jerked Wolfram onto his side, and those green eye's he'd thought he'd never see again opened slowly.

Wolfram sat up and yawned. He looked healthier than he had at dinner, really healthier than he had since the attack. "What happened?"

"Um…" Gunter was in Wolfram's general line of sight when he got up, so the question was vaguely directed at him. Gunter was also back to comical bemusement with the crisis past. He never could look serious in his billowy nightshirt and stocking cap, and he was hoping no one would look down. He was wearing his kitty slippers, a pair of adorable and wonderfully comfortable little cats that he'd found left outside his door mysteriously one day.

"That's actually a good question, considering he was dead," Anissina said contemplatively, getting herself a shocked and revolted stare from Wolfram which she entirely ignored. "Of course, his heart had only stopped for a few minutes, so it wasn't impossible. But it was still a very impressive outpouring of power. Even for the Maou. And I'm not entirely certain what part the Bear Bees played. This really requires further experimentation."

Wolfram looked helplessly around, and his eyes fell on Yuuri, who was half asleep against the side of the bed. "Yuuri, what happened?"

"Slow acting poison in the knife… Giesela and, um, everyone…" How had the room gotten so crowded? "Barely saved you."

"Actually, I'd say most of the credit goes to His Majesty." Giesela stood and began to flatten her hair primly. "It was his power that must have forced the poison out and done the damage."

"Actually…" Conrad coughed. "The reason Bear Bees have been so extensively hunted is the very strong purifying power of their wing scales. Just a few will detoxify a poisoned spring or nullify even something as strong as the Wincott Poison."

"Oh." Yuuri nodded. "So I guess they saved you."

"Nogisu!"

"With a lot of help." Giesela wasn't letting Yuuri be modest about this. "There is no contending that Your Majesty saved Lord Bielefeld's life." She patted his shoulder and determinedly helped him up.

"Well, I'm just glad you're okay." Yuuri looked bashful, with all these eyes on him. But he did garner the courage to squeeze Wolfram's shoulder. "I was really worried."

"Oh, so now I owe my life to a wimp again." But he smiled. Wolfram looked up at Yuuri in what could only be described as love, and the Maou made himself stay put.

Not for long, though. "Well, it looks like we could all use some rest. It's pretty late."

"Actually, it's only about nine-thirty." Hube blinked when the whole room looked around at him. He shrugged. It wasn't late. Elle wasn't even asleep.

"Well, Wolfram could use some rest!" Yuuri glared, looking more petulant than kingly and disapproving. But his subjects were used to that. Wolfram decided not to even gainsay him. He hadn't made a full recovery, just a step in the right direction, and he was worn out.

Lady Celi corssed the floor and hugged Wolfram. "Oh, my darling, I thought I was going to lose you!" She stood up and pounced on Yuuri. "Your Majesty, you've restored my baby to me again and again."

She was being sincere, which Yuuri found refreshing, but she was also being very… huggy. Yuuri was rather uncomfortable, and glad when she let go, back to her smiley self. "See you two later. Have a wonderful last few hours of your birthday, Wolfram!"

Wolfram rolled his eyes and looked slightly sulky. Gradually, everyone else filtered out, some simply bowing and getting on with their lives, like Sangria, while the last Bear Bee flew out the window. Gwendal and Conrad both lingered. Finally, Conrad hugged Wolfram and smiled tolerantly at the glare he got for it and left. Gwendal looked like he was about to do the same. In fact, Yuuri was sure he was. At the last second, approaching the bed, he pulled a fox from his pocket. Yuuri was pretty sure it was a fox, anyway. Though there was as good a chance it was a red panda, so he kept his mouth shut.

Wolfram looked shocked. "Perilous Sly?"

Gwendal coughed. "I had some help from Anissina and Greta." He dropped the toy on Wolfram's lap, whirled on his heel, and left the room in a definite hurry.

Yuuri was completely confused. "What's a Perilous Sly?"

Wolfram looked like he'd forgotten Yuuri was there. "Oh, um, there was a _stupid_ stuffed fox I had when I was a child. That was its name. Mael set it on fire because I didn't want to go hunting with him and some girl and her little brother. I guess Gwendal remembered… for seventy-six years…" He swallowed, looking very touched and like he was trying to hide it.

"Oh, so it really was a fox." Yuuri nodded, pretending he hadn't noticed Wolfram was being sentimental about a toy. "No wonder he had help. I thought it looked a little more, um, recognizable than usual."

"Oh, it's an exact replica, even the little black ears, and—" Wolfram swallowed. "Anyway, you were probably right. I should probably sleep."

"Oh, yeah, goodnight." Yuuri nodded and walked out almost as quickly as Gwendal. He'd just remembered he'd left Greta completely alone.

When he walked in, she was sitting on the bed, playing with some wooden horses Dorcas had carved for her. Yuuri sat next to her and stroked her hair. "I'm sorry, Greta. Wolfram took a real turn for the worse, and I had to go help him."

"I know," she said with a smile, making the black horse run up Yuuri's arm. "Hey, it's Ao! Neigh! Now he's gonna ride you!"

"Oh, well, ok—Wait. How did you know? Did Gwendal tell you?" He hoped not. Even Gwendal wasn't callous enough to tell a little girl her father might be dying. Actually, it seemed he wasn't really very callous at all, if Perilous Sly was any indication.

"Nope. A ghost told me. Neigh! Here comes Pearl! Can you be the brown one? I don't know what his name is yet."

"Alright, Greta, I am not a racetrack." Yuuri looked at her oddly. "A ghost told you?"

"Mm-hm."

"Um, what kind of ghost?" Maybe she'd had a dream. But what an oddly specific one.

"Um, he had fancy clothes, and yellow hair and blue eyes. Looked a lot like Wolfram, but older and taller. He said not to worry because you were taking care of Wolfram, and that he had to go for a while but we'd see him again pretty soon."

"That's pretty creepy, Greta." Yuuri glanced around, as though waiting for a blond ghost to appear. He wanted to call it a dream, but how had a dream told her what was going on? Vaguely, perhaps. Maybe she could have put it together herself. Wolfram was doing poorly, Yuuri wasn't there… He tried to dismiss it. He couldn't say there were no such things as ghosts, but he hoped he could say there wasn;t one roaming his castle.

"No, he was nice. Very polite." Greta bounded Ao on Yuuri's cheek a few times and yawned. "But Wolfram's okay, right?"

"Oh, he's going to be fine. There was a thing with poison, but Giesela and I and, well, about half the castle got rid of it. He actually looks a little better than he did today, so I'm sure he'll be back to annoying us all pretty soon."

"Good." Greta jumped off the bed and put the horses in her toybox. "So I guess we should go back to sleep now?" Usually she wasn't nearly so eager for bed, especially when there was a chance of getting a story out of someone, but if they were going to get up early and play with the Bear Bees, she'd acquiesce.

Yuuri nodded. "Okay. I'll tuck you in. Just a second." He changed into his nightshirt, remembering as he did so that he'd left the ring for Wolfram. Now he wanted to hand it over personally. Having Wolfram effectively die in his arms (or undergo temporary cardiac arrest in his hands, whatever) had once again changed something, and Yuuri wanted to at least see Wolfram's face when he found the ring.

He tucked Greta in and lay down beside her, waiting until he heard her snoring. Yuuri wondered what it was like to sleep in silence. He figured that at this point he'd never know. He didn't even get under the covers, knowing he was just getting up again.

Once he was sure Greta was asleep, Yuuri stood and pulled his clothes back on. He felt silly for undressing, now. But Greta would have been suspicious. Yuuri didn't fasted up his jacket, leaving it open and exposing the comfy linen undershirt underneath, and he was barefoot. After all, he was only walking down the hall. He hadn't even really _had_ to get dressed, as he slept in a Spartan white nightshirt and was incapable, therefore, of looking as silly as his peers.

He slipped silently into the hall and headed for Wolfram's room. Pity. Now the ring wouldn't be a birthday present. But he supposed it wasn't that significant, as much as he'd wanted to miff Wolfram with it. Gwendal and Greta had had their turns.

It suddenly occurred to him that Wolfram was no longer deathly ill, and would therefore not necessarily sleep like a rock through Yuuri's skulking. He did _not_ want to be caught sneaking across Wolfram's floor empty-handed. If Wolfram woke up after he had the ring, then fine. He'd get his present after all. But if he woke up with Yuuri halfway to the bed… Well, he wasn't sure. But he didn't want to know.

So either he could leave the ring and miss the look on Wolfram's face, or he could come up with an excuse to be there and avoid a tongue lashing from Wolfram and probably worse. Yuuri considered for only a moment before he began to pour over excuses.

Well, Wolfram had just nearly died. Yuuri would be justified in worry, and could just be checking on Wolfram. That would work. But he had a sudden additional thought, out of nowhere. A thought that he sort of preferred to a mundane and reasonable excuse. He was already crazy enough to be giving Wolfram the carefully engraved ring, so why not take an extra step? To ward against being caught empty handed, he would simply have something else to give.

Yuuri padded down the stairs, his bare feet rather enjoying the plush carpet. He should run around barefoot more often. It made him much quieter. He'd never been able to sneak by Gunter's room before.

He found his way out of the castle and shivered. It was getting late for real now. Greta had taken a long time to really fall asleep. But for a few lanterns there was only the moon for light, and except for a few guards, the grounds were perfectly empty. The ground was cold beneath Yuuri's feet.

But it was kind of nice at the same time, the quiet and the silver light. He'd have preferred that Wolfram be out with him. Yuuri had stopped trying to dodge thoughts like that.

He walked to the flower bed. He hoped no one would mind him picking a lot. No one stopped Greta, but she was a little girl, and only ever took one or two at a time. There was a lot of Beautiful Wolfram, though. Yuuri plucked the flowers randomly, taking them from several places throughout the flower bed.

As he bent down to pick another flower, something fluttered to the ground beside him. He looked down to see the ribbon that had been around the ring's box. It must have been riding around in his pocket all this time.

Yuuri picked it up and stood. He had eight. That was a pretty good number. He wrapped the ribbon around the stems, tying it as elegantly as he could. Which wasn't very. Elegant wasn't exactly Yuuri's specialty. He managed a bow that wasn't too crooked, and hoped the silky black ribbon with gold thread would bring the bouquet up to Wolfram's standards.

He really had to find out if the Mou's fiancé was allowed to wear black. That would thrill Wolfram and let him enjoy an ego trip, but Yuuri was thinking more of how much it would bug those brothers of his.

Yuuri turned and walked back inside, walking past a patrol of guards and blushing. If they found it funny to watch the Maou walk by carrying a handful of yellow flowers and barefoot, they very politely restrained themselves. Yuuri hurried up the stairs and opened Wolfram's door.

He was snoring. Yuuri took that as a good sign. He tiptoed along, completely stealthy, almost to the nightstand. He'd leave the flowers and take the ring. They could be a teaser. Sneakily, he slid across the floor, complimenting himself on ninja abilities he hadn't even known about.

And then he knocked into a chair, tripping himself, grunting loudly, knocking the chair over, and tugging the blanket off Wolfram as he tried to catch himself and ended up grabbing the bedclothes as they draped off the mattress. He landed with a crash that woke Dorcas sleeping two floors below.

Wolfram could sleep through almost anything. He was rather infamous in certain circles for having pulled a pillow over his head and dosing on as a hurricane flooded the first floor of the house he was in and tore the roof off the third. But not even he could sleep through that, though it did take him a while to actually sit up, long enough for Yuuri to halfway recover himself, getting his face out of the carpet, at least.

Wolfram just stared at him, looking unsure whether to be annoyed or amused. Yuuri blushed furiously, scrambling to his feet. The bouquet had rolled under the bed and escaped Wolfram's notice. Yuuri snatched it as he stood. He thrust the handful of flowers forward bashfully, unable to enunciate at all. "Thisisforyou."

Wolfram stared another moment. "You snuck into my room to give me flowers, you wimp?" The words sounded sort of shaky, and Yuuri noticed Wolfram's voice seemed to have crept up half an octave. The insult was just a reflex. He pulled the bouquet to his chest, still staring at Yuuri in what was slowly moving from shock to… Yuuri couldn't name what was shining in Wolfram's eyes, but it involved awe, delight, and adoration.

"Um, well, I was hoping they'd make you feel better, so—"

"Beautiful Wolfram." He'd only just realized. It was dark, the room lit only by the moon, and it wasn't a particularly fragrant flower that he could recognize by scent.

"…It suits you." That had been lame, but Yuuri knew it was true. "I mean, Lady Celi gave it the right name, and since you're getting better, I thought maybe it'd help in getting back to yourself if you had such a good, um, symbol of yourself…" He was babbling now. Yuuri shifted slightly, casually, and his fingers closed around the velvet box Wolfram had failed entirely to notice.

"Oh." Wolfram's eyes fell a little. One had to know him as well as Yuuri to notice, but there was a definite downward shift in his mood. "Well, it was a nice thought, if about as moronic as I'd expect from you." It was still nice that Yuuri had been thinking about him…

Yuuri took a deep breath. Wolfram loved him. He shouldn't play games with that delicate heart anymore, not after all it had been through and not now that he knew he was doing it. Yuuri had gone so long thinking the engagement was a fluke and Wolfram's involvement a combination of pride and the urge to be annoying. It was hard to adjust to thinking of it as Wolfram's serious intention.

And even harder to realize it was serious for him, too. He couldn't just go on admiring Wolfram's looks, making ridiculous sacrifices for him, and shivering when they touched, and not admit his feelings to himself. He was pretty sure buying an engagement ring constituted admitting it, but that was only the first little step.

Yuuri had finally told himself the truth. The Maou realized now that Soushu could never really have taken control of his heart. Wolfram already had it under lock and key. So now came the hard part. Telling Wolfram.

"Right. Moronic." He couldn't decide if that was better or worse than being a wimp. "I also got you this." Yuuri blushed so brightly even the moonlight showed it when he held out the box.

Wolfram looked mildly annoyed. "Did Gwendal put you up to joining in this damn 'birthday' thing? They just won't let it go."

"Um, he didn't. It was my idea." With help from Conrad, but he didn't think that would make Wolfram any happier about it. Wolfram looked like he was about to go on a real tirade. He had that really sharp scowl and the aura of indignation ready to roll. Yuuri took a step back, defensive. "Conrad told me birthdays could be made into personal lovers' holidays!" He spoke very fast, but this time every word was clear.

Yuuri was probably the first person to truly leave Wolfram speechless. All his righteous fury melted away, and he was left halfway through an angry gesture, pointing at Yuuri with a fist half raised. His face was still set to "glower," but his eyes had completely changed expression.

Yuuri took the opportunity to shove the box into his hand. Wolfram opened it as though he was in a trance, lifting the shimmering ring from the velvet cushion inside. In the moonlight it looked rather different, the silver sheen brought out much more, muting the dancing green, blue, and purple a bit. The gold even took on a different sheen. Everything about the ring was quieter, softer.

It seemed the gem could match Wolfram moment to moment. Yuuri supposed that was crazy, but he liked the idea anyway.

Wolfram still looked stunned. The silence dragged on too long. Had he made a horrible mistake? Yuuri swallowed nervously. "It reminded me of you. The stone."

Finally, Wolfram looked up at him again. "It's beautiful, Yuuri." His voice was very soft and wavering. All the posturing was gone in that moment. Wolfram wasn't trying to be anything but himself, for perhaps the first time since Yuuri had met him. Not a lord, a warrior, the perfect son or sorcerer or even fiancé. He was simply Wolfram, a young, passionate, and uncertain, abruptly swept off his feet by a love he'd nearly given up on.

"There's, um, a tradition on Earth of giving the person you're going to marry an engagement ring." He'd been debating internally whether he'd admit what it was. Yuuri hadn't realized that particular internal struggle was over until he spoke then. "It symbolizes…" He wasn't sure, actually, what it symbolized besides being engaged. But everything in Shin Makoku seemed to have meanings beyond meanings, and Wolfram would prefer it that way. "The strength and purity of the promise that binds you to your fiancé." That sounded reasonable. Yuuri was so pleased with himself for making up a good symbol he almost forgot to panic.

The ring could have been explained away. Maybe. Not once Wolfram noticed the engraving, but Yuuri could hold onto the fantasy. But he had sealed himself in this engagement now for good and for all. And he didn't mind.

He _wanted_ to marry Wolfram.

Wolfram was about to answer—what, he didn't know, but he felt he had to say _something_ to that beautiful pronouncement—when his fingers brushed the ridges of the inscription. He looked down and could make out only his own name from the Japanese. Gunter was the only one who could read the Maou's language at all. Wolfram had just bullied his own name out of Yuuri once, when he was bored.

But he did notice the inside after a moment of being perplexed. His lips formed the words, but he was too stunned to even whisper. _To Wolfram. From Yuuri. With Love._

Yuuri could see he was reading it, and his heart stopped for a moment. Yuuri finally knew what he wanted, was prepared to take whatever came of his confessed feelings and the affection for Wolfram he was tired of rejecting. But that was only half the journey.

He knew Wolfram loved him. Or he thought he'd known. Doubt began to set in suddenly. For all he knew, he'd misread everything and the whole affair was a matter of Wolfram's pride and propriety. And even if that wasn't true, he'd inadvertently been stomping on Wolfram's delicate heart for months. What right did he have to expect a favorable yield from this endeavor?

Yuuri was so engrossed in the sudden and vicious resurgence of his insecurities that he missed Wolfram sliding the ring onto his finger, finding it fit perfectly (that was thanks to Lady Celi, who had slipped Jaurah the measurement), and smiling shakily. He was overwhelmed. In all his most cherished daydreams, it was never so sweet. Inept, yes. Awkward, yes. Cute, unexpected, and romantic; check, check, and double check. But even Wolfram hadn't been able to imagine his beloved fiancé so _disarmingly_ sweet.

And then he was kissing Yuuri. Neither of them had quite noticed when he actually got out of bed, and suddenly Wolfram's arms were around Yuuri's neck, his lips pressed hard and hungrily to the Maou's. It lasted about half a second and overwhelmed Yuuri with shock.

Wolfram just thought it had to be presumptuous. The miniscule moment he'd followed impulse had been incredible and intense, but he'd second-guessed himself so roughly his head spun. He couldn't believe he'd been so crass. To spoil this wonderful moment of receiving Yuuri's love with a lustful, lowbrow action like that was unconscionable. He;d practically jumped backward, letting go of Yuuri completely

Yuuri just reeled, quite unaware of what was spinning through Wolfram's head as he pulled back almost the moment he'd started. He'd almost convinced himself he was about to be rejected when his first kiss took by complete surprise. Yuuri was horrified to realize he didn't even remember it. He'd barely become aware he was being kissed when Wolfram tore away.

That just wasn't fair, not to have fond memories of his first kiss to dwell on. Yuuri was a romantic soul, though very good at subverting that to fuel his idealism. And baseball. He could be very romantic about baseball.

The only thing to do was make sure his second was good enough to make up for the loss. Yuuri surprised himself by reaching forward and dragging Wolfram back, grabbing a handful of his shirt and tugging. But he didn't have time to be surprised anymore when his mouth found Wolfram's.

He had to crane a little bit to reach. Greta was right. Wolfram was taller, if only by a little.

Much better. Wolfram's lips were warm and inviting, quivering against Yuuri's in the split second between meeting and more solid pressure. He didn't respond for a moment, and a horrible sinking feeling went through Yuuri, fear that he'd made a horrible mistake. But then Wolfram made a pleased little noise in the back of his throat that Yuuri was a little afraid to call a moan. His lips parted slightly, pressing harder against Yuuri's.

One of Wolfram's arms wound around Yuuri's waist, the other slid up from his neck and through his hair, holding his head still. The Maou had started it, but he had a sense he'd ceded all control. And really didn't object. How could he have, when Wolfram was holding him so close, strong arms clutching him to that lean, muscular body… Yuuri hugged back much less elegantly, wrapping his arms around Wolfram's neck and holding on.

Wolfram was a little shier about the actual kiss, Yuuri noticed. The Maou had been suspecting his fiancé of a real bit of practice, the way his hands had managed to settle places that made Yuuri shiver. But his more timid kissing suggested otherwise. Wolfram was actually just acting out his daydreams, based on watching other couples and reading romance novels he hid under his bed. They explained in detail the experience of being clutched to a lover's body, but were less specific about the actual liplock.

So Yuuri led the kiss, catching Wolfram's bottom lip and nipping gently. Maybe it was a natural gift, something that came with being the Maou. Kissing, dimension-hopping, and creating monsters from base elements. Or maybe it was simply that within the timid high school boy turned king of demons there beat the heart of a lover. Either way, Wolfram was lucky and Yuuri was blushing.

He grew bolder, sucking instead of just catching Wolfram's lips with his own. Wolfram made that noise again and Yuuri felt the tip of his fiancé's soft tongue flick against his upper lip. He returned in kind, trying to do Wolfram one better for the sheer joy of it. Yuuri's tongue slid over Wolfram's bottom lip, and he felt the other boy quiver in his arms. Yuuri's mouth opened and, before he could act, Wolfram stole his thunder, holding his fiancé's head still, his tongue moving into Yuuri's mouth, soft and velvety, but wonderfully intense and probing. Too intense. The Maou gasped and pulled back, a tad bit overcome.

So… He was pretty sure all that qualified as his _second_ kiss. That about made up for the first disappointment.

Wolfram was still holding him tight, which Yuuri was glad for. He was looking around desperately for something to say that wouldn't be horribly awkward and shatter the mood. Once more Wolfram beat him to it, burying his face in Yuuri's shoulder with a long, contented sigh. "Oh, Yuuri…"

"Wolfram." His voice wasn't so breathy and cute, but Yuuri meant it. He wasn't sure what "it" was, but he was sincere. "I'm sorry. I should have realized I…"

"It was worth the wait." And then Wolfram was kissing him again, all traces of timidity vanished. Yuuri's advantage was fast vanishing. Wolfram's life of maniacal training had forced him to be a quick study.

Yuuri was panting when he was released this time. Clearly he was going to have to learn to kiss and breathe at the same time. "I love you." He'd just realized it hadn't actually been said yet. And he wanted to get _something_ before Wolfram did.

Instead of kissing him again, as he'd expected, Wolfram let go and stepped back, holding up his hand. The ring glittered in the moonlight, which had traveled across half the floor while they were kissing, a fact Yuuri found both frightening and heartening. "I guessed."

"Oh, sure, be a snot about it." Yuuri tried to narrow his eyes, but he was still too exhilarated. No rejection, no more complication. He loved Wolfram and wanted to marry him.

"You idiot, I love you more than I can put into words." Wolfram grabbed Yuuri again and sat down on the bed with him, kissing him again. In the middle of this one, Giesela emerged from the maid's room to make sure Wolfram was doing alright.

She stared for a long moment and beat a fast retreat. That would be something rather important to report to the girls tomorrow. In fact, that might finish off the royal love pool and leave them to bet on something else. She's suggest wedding dress colors. Both Yuuri and Wolfram were too busy to notice the door opening and closing, or even the fit of giggles Giesela indulged in once closed back up in her room.

Yuuri very reluctantly extricated himself with a sigh after what he thought was a long and very pleasant time. Hard to judge the passage of time when he was having his tongue sucked. "Um, Wolfram, Greta's alone, so…"

"I'll go with you. Just let me—" Wolfram realized he'd never actually undressed and simply shrugged.

Yuuri considered arguing, but didn't think it was worth it. Or want to. He'd missed having Wolfram sleep beside him. "Okay."

Wolfram looked a little surprised at the lack of resistance, but moved on. "Yuuri, should I get one for you?" He held up his hand again. Yuuri suspected he just liked holding the ring up to the light, with his delicate, long-fingered hand prettily posed and the ring glowing like a star. And it did look beautiful when he did it, so the Maou wasn't complaining.

"Usually, only one person gets one. That'd be the woman, but…" Yuuri wondered which he was supposed to be. His mother had mentioned wedding dresses to Wolfram, but considering the way he'd just been kissed… "Anyway, the, um, symbol is there now, so it's not like there's any doubt. Let's go to bed."

He and Wolfram slunk down the hall, suddenly both very, very embarrassed. They were engaged, maybe, but that had been true for months and no one really thought anything was going to come of it. Greta was thankfully fast asleep. Yuuri scooched her over to the side of the bed and crawled in, not bothering to undress or get under the covers. It was really late. And changing into his nightshirt in front of Wolfram was suddenly a very awkward concept.

Wolfram followed him with similar trepidations, but he was exhausted, and he had barely set his head Yuuri's shoulder before he was snoring. Yuuri wasn't far behind. He hadn't been technically dead, but it had been a very long day anyway.

He woke with glaring, midmorning sun in his eyes because Greta had opened the blinds. She waved at him. "You were sleeping too long. I'm telling, um, everyone you and Wolfram were bein' snuggly. Bye!" Bored with her sleepy parents, she ran off.

Yuuri looked down. Snuggly was the right word. Wolfram was still where Yuuri had left him, head resting on the Maou's shoulder (and his right arm fast asleep as a result), arm around Yuuri's waist, and knee stabbing into his thigh just to make sure Yuuri couldn't sleep in comfort, however cuddly.

For the first time, he felt like he actually _had_ slept with Wolfram, rather than just shared a bed. Not that the least thing had happened, Yuuri reminded himself in his mother's voice. They'd gone right to sleep and stayed that way. But sleeping in such a _snuggly _fashion was a world away from happening to share the same mattress while Wolfram kicked him a lot.

Yuuri pulled himself from his reverie. He adored Wolfram and everything was settled now, but he did have a bit of real life to attend to. He _had_ slept late, left alone because no one was sure what the use of super-powered healing magic was going to do to him. Yuuri yawned, trying to worm out from under Wolfram.

It worked, but only by waking his fiancé, who blinked sleepily as Yuuri stood and walked to the mirror, realizing suddenly just how disheveled Wolfram had left him. His hair was sticking out in all directions, there was actually a tear in the collar of his undershirt, and… Yuuri's eyes widened in mortification, slapping his hand over the telltale blotch of red on his neck.

"Oh, I suppose that's a sign that I'm marked as your soulmate now!" It was high on his neck! His collar wasn't going to cover than and his hair would do a lousy job.

"No. It was just fun." Wolfram yawned and sat up with a smug smile.

"Wolfram, you gave me the world's most obvious hickey!"

"You didn't mind last night."

"Pervert!"

"Wimp!"

"Don't call me that!"

**Author's Note:**_ And that, my more astute readers may have noted, is the end of _this_ story. God, I can already hear the dismay. Or maybe that's relief. Wouldn't know. But if you're of the number calling ninjas down upon me for ending this, that was the bad news. There's good news, too! Good news that tastes of caramel and has rainbows!_

_You see, I said _this_ story. This was the story of Yuuri learning to accept his feelings for Wolfram. There was clearly a lot more going on in the world, which I assume is a prime motivator for being pissed at me for ending this. What about Wolfram's vile brothers, human assassins, Greta's ghost friend, and Gunter's mysterious kitty slippers? Well, while this story is over, another story has just begun, an epic tale of true love and high adventure in Shin Makoku. That's right. This was merely a prologue. So you may return to the edge of your seats, my lovelies. There's more to come. It'll just be a sequel. A way longer sequel. With a plot and everything._


End file.
